


Shoot From the Hip

by Lunari



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Art by Caleb Crow, Art by Kinaesthetic, Art by Lesbeanlatte, Country Music, Drama, F/F, Fluff, Mentions of McHanzo - Freeform, Pharmercy, band au, slowburn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-12
Updated: 2018-03-18
Packaged: 2018-12-01 03:51:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 43,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11478036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lunari/pseuds/Lunari
Summary: It was all worth it. As Fareeha stood on stage, fingers deftly moving over the strings of her dad’s old bass guitar, hopping in time to the country rock song her best friends had written, she realized it was worth every struggle and hardship that got them to this point.(aka)The band AU that no one (okay one person) asked for.





	1. Shoot From the Hip

**Author's Note:**

  * For [acl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/acl/gifts).



> This is set in Nashville, Tennessee in 2006. There are many reasons I wanted this particular time as the themes of this fic will require a bit more traditional Nashville atmosphere. 
> 
> Some of you may be asking “why country?” Well, that’s because I love Jesse/Fareeha’s bromance so I had to include him, so of course he’d be the lead singer and can you imagine him playing pop? Right. Also there are two major locations I need the band playing at and they happen to be in Nashville, the home of country. (Yes they are real locations.)
> 
> Third, ages are all over the place. Jesse is 23, Hanzo and Angela are 24, Fareeha is 22.
> 
> Last, there is a reference band that I've been listening to non-stop for inspiration: The Brothers Osborne. (The title and chapter titles are taken from their songs, if you haven't heard their "Shoot From the Hip" please search it up. It's Jesse McCree in a song.)

“Alright alright, we’re here!” Came the exasperated groan as he was shoved yet again, nearly tripping up the ramped walkway. “Look, ‘Ree-” Jesse’s complaint was cut off as Fareeha leaped onto his back, arms clutching around his neck in excitement as she giddily pointed out the placard taped to the window.

 

“But Jess, it’s  _ us _ !” The uncharacteristic squeal was deafening in Jesse’s ear and he immediately reacted by giving her a shove from his back. Her combat-booted feet scuffed against the cement and dead leaves as she dropped with a mumble of protest. Behind the duo, Hanzo leaned against the railing with an air of disinterest as he chewed on a bit of stale gum he’d been working on for the better part of the day.

 

Jesse shook out his shoulders and righted his jacket before following Fareeha’s hand where she was still pointing out the sign with an air of a six-year-old on Christmas morning. There, taped to the glass of the Mercy Lounge, was a poster. Black and white with their three faces decorating it with their name beneath.

 

**_The Deadlock Gang_ **

**_Tonight at 6 pm_ **

 

Despite his earlier protests, Jesse broke into a grin and Fareeha could swear she saw a glisten in his eye before the man turned and tugged the door open with conviction. “Alright, let’s do this.” 

 

Setup and soundcheck were completed in record time and as soon as the final checks were complete, their audio-visual tech disappeared into the booth to discuss any known issues or glitches with their systems. 

 

Hanzo was up in the performers’ loft, spending his time pre-show alone as was his usual. Jesse was talking up one of the bartenders, hopeful to score a few more free drinks than what was normally supplied to performers. If his track record was anything to go by, the petite redhead would give him plenty of coy looks but no shots on the house.

 

Fareeha, however, was sitting on the edge of the stage, feet kicking against the sideboards, hands between her knees as her fingers tapped out the cadence for one of her more difficult riffs. While this show wasn’t their most important of their short career, it was their biggest venue to date with the Lounge both capable of housing, and hopeful to fill, a crowd of five hundred. Her nerves were buzzing just beneath her skin as she looked over the small intimate tables and booths, imagining them filled with friends and new fans alike. 

 

She gave her head an incredulous shake, a disbelieving smirk on her dark painted lips.

 

“You ready?” Jesse asked as he dropped down next to her, joining her in the daydream that was a full room. When she didn’t respond, he bumped shoulders with her and she grinned, shoving his head away with a playful laugh.

 

“I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to this feeling.” She mused.

 

“But ya don’t wanna?” He finished, smirking as he watched her resume her nervous fingering of chords against the edge of the stage, her lip tucked between her teeth.

 

~*~

 

It was all worth it. As Fareeha stood on stage, fingers deftly moving over the strings of her dad’s old bass guitar, hopping in time to the country rock song her best friends had written, she realized it was worth every struggle and hardship that got them to this point.

 

It was difficult to make the decision to move two hours south to Nashville with nothing more in their pocket than what they’d earned from odd jobs and pawning their valuables. But when she watched Jesse sing his heart out, watched him captivate the crowd with an awe-inspiring guitar solo, when she looked back and saw a rare smile from Hanzo as he gave a wink to a screaming fan during a showy stick flip, she knew it was all worth it. Jesse had a magic about him, a magnetism that drew not only her eye but every eye in the crowd. It was what lead them to this stage, surrounded by fans and roadies, what kept her in awe throughout any of their shows. It was the reason they were making it in this rough business.

 

Bursting with pride and with a huge smile on her face, Fareeha finished out their current song and glanced back to Hanzo. Their last song of the set opened with drum and bass and was a favorite of theirs as it always had the crowd on their feet and dancing. The bassist and drummer shared a look before they began playing completely in sync. She glanced back to Jesse and his habitual flirting with the girls in the front row. He was made for this.

 

Fareeha leaned into the mic, singing harmony alongside her best friend. At the edge of the stage stood a man that had been trying to catch her eye all night, no doubt entranced by her mocha skin, long legs, sultry umber gaze and eclectic style. 

 

While Jesse leaned more toward standard country attire and Hanzo had fully adapted to the hipster fashion, Fareeha stayed a bit more close to home: a pair of cutoff shorts, band tank and red flannel button up tied at her waist, her late mother’s combat boots. 

 

As she completed a tricky riff, she turned her attention to the man, giving him a wink. He returned a half smile and lifted his bottle in a small salute, hopeful for more after the show. Fareeha turned her eyes away, instead focusing hyping up the crowd to sing along with the final chorus. Giving a flirty look or two to keep the crowd entranced and swooning was one thing, but to lead him to believe anything more would happen was simply something she refused to do.

 

As Fareeha’s umber eyes tracked the concert-goers, who were hanging on every syllable that fell from Jesse’s lips as he gave a small speech, she caught sight of a flash of white gold. She’d seen the woman enter at the start of the show and pick a table to the side of the stage, properly hidden in shadow and away from the rowdy first row. Now she was joined by a man, tall and bulky and most definitely grabbing her by the arm and tugging her to stand.

 

When the blonde’s face flashed in pain and a small pale hand shot to her shoulder, Fareeha saw red. In one swift move, her bass was unplugged and slung to her back and she was off the stage, the beads and feathers braided into her hair clinking and fluttering at the motion. 

 

Her hand had just closed over the man’s wrist. She’d just formed placating words. She’d just schooled her face from rage to a disarming smile when her own wrist was grabbed and jerked behind her back, the motion tugging her into a tall body, the neck of her guitar jabbing into her back. Thick fingers banded around her forearm and wrenched it backward, her attacker giving a gruff yell. Her heart stopped when she  _ felt _ the crack, her fingers feeling cold before the pain of a broken bone registered. 

 

Then hell broke loose.

 

Jesse was off the stage with a shout, jerking Fareeha’s attacker back, leaving the bassist to cradle her broken wrist as she curled in on herself and gasped for a steady breath through unshed tears. She could hear the scuffle between Jesse and both men, the first now abandoning the blonde to team up on her friend. She shakily swallowed, mentally commanding herself to ignore the pain, to help the man who was like a brother when a petite hand closed over her shoulder. Fareeha flinched away, eyes darting to the newcomer only to be met with startling blue. 

 

“Your bandmates have a handle on things, you need to take it easy.” And she was being guided to sit in a chair, small chilled fingers gently dancing over an already bruising forearm.

 

Fareeha was sure that the angelic melody was a result of pain and adrenaline, there was no way any human could sound that heavenly. She was so focused on the girl before her that when she finally looked up to check on Jesse, Hanzo was stood between him and the two men. Jesse was slightly bloody and favoring his right side but Hanzo stood tall, clenched fists at his side, bloody knuckles a match for the broken nose of Fareeha’s attacker.

 

It was then that the manager, flanked by bouncers, finally came upon the group. The two beefy bouncers gave a rough shove to the two men as the manager stepped up to speak to Jesse and Hanzo. After a few short, heated moments the manager shook Jesse’s hand with a grim smile and left. Hanzo hopped to the stage and gave a few brief apologies to the crowd before turning to break down their gear, his face betraying none of the worries that ate at him as Jesse lead a pale and wincing Fareeha through the back door.

 

The pair stepped out to the smell of old beer, piss, and burnt oil, Fareeha nearly retching as the scent combined with her crashing adrenaline. She sank to her heels against the side of the building, injured wrist cradled between her stomach and thighs, her head falling back to rap against the brick as she finally let a few tears fall.

 

Jesse stood uncertainly at her side for a moment, shifting his weight and digging the toe of his boot into a tuft of grass that had erupted through the asphalt. “Ree, we gotta get you to the hospital.” His tone was low, nearly masked by the sounds of the city’s nightlife.

 

Fareeha merely shook her head, her lower lip trapped between teeth. Her face contorted in pain as a sob jostled her arm, a few more tears slipping past her tightly clenched eyelids. She took a few steadying breaths, dark eyes opening to stare at nothing. “Jess, I’m sorry.” Her words became thicker with unshed tears. “I’m so sorry.”

 

Jesse dropped to a crouch and dropped a hand on her shoulder. “Ree, we need to get you taken care of, I need to know you’re okay. Don’t start with that apolo-”

 

It was then that the angel from the bar followed them out. Her hair was slightly ruffled and she nearly tripped on her way out, but once she’d righted herself and tried to cover her blush, she made her way over to them with purpose. She kicked aside a cigarette butt before kneeling by the pair. Fareeha swiftly swiped at her tears with her uninjured hand while the blonde was distracted.

 

“Let me drive you to the hospital.” She said with no introduction or preamble. When it looked like the pair was going to refuse, she continued. “It’s only right since I…” It was then that Fareeha finally looked at the woman. Her blue eyes were glimmering with tears, blonde bangs nearly covered blushing cheeks and her lower lip was pink and swollen, likely from a nervous chewing. “My father’s a doctor at Midtown, I can cover the billing, just please let me take you.” 

 

She was nervously rambling now, only broken by Fareeha’s sigh of defeat. “I don’t expect you to help with billing… but a ride would be nice.” She moved to stand but cried out as she reflexively moved both hands to push herself from the ground. Within seconds, two pairs of hands were on her, helping her to her feet. She flashed an awkward smile of thanks to the blonde before leaning heavily on Jesse, strength sapping from her body as the seconds wore on. 

 

“Just um, follow me then.” The woman said as she stepped ahead of the pair, trying not to feel like she was intruding on a tender moment as the man leaned down to whisper into his bandmate’s ear which caused a deep blush to bloom over the woman’s cheeks. She lead them a bit away before stopping at a white and gold classic car, fumbling with her keys before unlocking and holding the door for the two. She made sure they were comfortably seated before climbing in and taking off, checking the rearview periodically to check on her passengers. When she locked eyes with Jesse, Fareeha tucked under his arm and her face firmly in his neck, she gave a thin smile before turning back to the road.

 

She navigated the hospital’s entry with ease before pulling into a reserved spot at the front of the lot. She dropped a parking pass on her dashboard as she clambered from the driver’s seat to wait patiently for the two to climb from the back. She walked them right to the front desk with a strained smile on her lips, brightening only slightly when she spotted the woman behind the counter.

 

“Hi Meri, my friend here had an accident. Can we get her papers?” The woman behind the desk, Meri, looked critically between the three before handing the blonde a clipboard. As she turned to walk away, Meri pointed at Jesse. “You can stay and give me her basic intake, you two go have a seat and I’ll call you when we’re ready.” All three nodded before moving to their tasks obediently, Jesse leaning against the counter with a flirty smile and the two women moving to a secluded corner of the waiting room.

 

“Are you right handed?” The woman asked once they’d sat, clipboard still in her lap. She only received a nod. “Okay then, I’ll fill this out for you. If there’s anything you don’t want to tell me, I’ll let your boyfriend answer when he finishes with Meredith.” She was too intently focused on the forms before her to notice the flash of shock on her companion’s face and the beginnings of a denial on her lips. “Name?” 

 

“Fareeha Amari.” Blue eyes darted up to look at Fareeha before she cleared her throat and concentrated on printing the name clearly. 

 

“My name’s Angela, by the way. Nice to meet you, though I wish it was under better circumstances.” Her pen danced over the form as she filled in a few more locations before asking for the next few bits of information. The two continued to fill out Fareeha’s paperwork long after Jesse had returned. Before they’d even finished up the last page, a nurse cracked the door to the waiting room and called for Fareeha. Angela smiled at her and handed her the clipboard and Fareeha stepped through after the nurse.

 

~*~

 

It felt like hours had passed when the man finally gave a huge sigh and leaned back in his chair. “Jesse McCree.” He stated simply. “Thanks for bringing us, I was afraid she’d’ve sat there for ages just mopin’ had you not come out and hurried her up.”

 

The blonde smiled softly. “No need to thank me, it’s the least I can do. Angela Ziegler.” The man simply nodded, eyes locked on some distant dust mote. Angela sat there for a few more moments before finally breaking the silence once more. “Your band is amazing, I didn’t want to come out tonight but after hearing your performance, I’m glad I did. Have you been together long?”

 

The question was two sided, judging by the fidgeting pale hands and slightly pink-cheeked blonde at his side, and Jesse picked up on it immediately. “Eh, me’n Hanzo’ve been together since we were kids, grew up in the same crappy small town. Ree dropped into our laps when we were fifteen. She was a Marine brat and she got shipped off to her dad’s. She was quite the character, loud and obnoxious, always pickin’ fights.” He chuckled, leaning back and scratching at the stubble along his jaw. “So obviously we had to be her friend. Then we heard her play and that was that. Besties, as you city folk say.”

 

It was Angela’s turn to laugh at his silly joke. “I can’t imagine playing in front of people. My parents forced me to learn violin when I was younger and I always hated the recitals.” A sigh. “You guys make it look so fun and easy though.”

 

“Well, you just have to love what you’re doing more than you hate being on display.” He paused and hummed to himself as if in awe of the philosophical wisdom he just imparted. “Hanzo is a magician on the drums, used to get kicked out of class for bangin’ away on his desk with a pencil. And Ree, if it’s got strings she can play it. Guitar, banjo, steel guitar, hell even this thing her mom taught her, some Egyptian thing.” His eyes shot sideways to slyly glance at the blonde as he mimicked playing a very large and awkward guitar. “She’s quite talented with her fingers.” He smirked at the blush that bloomed across her cheeks and up to her ears.

 

Angela sat there for a moment to calm herself from the imagery flooding her mind, completely blind to the smirk on the man’s face. The moments stretched into another long silence, Jesse sizing up the woman at his side and Angela wondering how to casually bring up her curiosity on their, namely Fareeha’s, relationship status. She’d seen the way the bassist had looked at Jesse while on stage, some mix of reverence and love. The way Fareeha had leaned on him on the way to Angela’s car. The sight of Jesse’s slight glare in the rearview mirror as Fareeha burrowed into his neck was possibly ingrained into Angela’s memory. She’d not even formally met the woman, but Angela couldn’t help but wish it had been her being looked at, her being leaned on,  _ her  _ neck being used as a pillow. Finally, she mustered some courage, “So you two are tog-”

 

Their attention snapped to the door and the slightly wobbly woman walking through. She had a cloudy look to her eyes, a dopey grin on her face and a casted wrist hung in a sling.


	2. Down Home

They made it back to Angela’s car without too much trouble. Fareeha had stopped at one point to interview a lamp post, argue the benefit of concrete and it’s advancements to society and twice to compliment Jesse on his hat. By the time she’d been herded into the backseat, she was staring nearly cross-eyed at her cast, small snarl on her lips.

 

Jesse reached over and buckled her in, giving the strap a few quick tugs to make sure she was secure before he climbed in the front seat with a tired sigh. Angela dropped the small bag of paperwork, wraps and extra sling into the floorboard before sliding behind the driver’s seat. They pulled away from the hospital in silence, only broken by Jesse’s soft directions back to their apartment and the clicking of his phone’s keyboard as he conversed with Hanzo.

 

The car pulled to a stop in front of a Venezuelan market and Angela leaned against the white leather steering wheel with a confused look as she gazed over the grocery. Jesse, however, was already out of the car and tugging Fareeha to his shoulder. Angela quickly threw the car into park and scrambled out after them, skipping ahead to help with the door. 

 

Their walk-up was fairly large considering their monthly rent: two bedrooms, a bathroom in between. Their kitchen was merely a mini-fridge and a few cabinets thrown against a wall with a sink dropped in the middle, but it was home. Obnoxious city sounds, frayed and stained carpet and all.

 

Jesse pushed the door open with his toe before ushering Fareeha inside. She stiffly made her way to the far bedroom as Jesse dropped his hat on the coat rack by the door. As he was pulling off his jacket, he caught sight of his watch and groaned.

 

“It’s nearly three, you might as well crash he- Ree! Turn the knob and  _ push _ .” He sighed and went to hang his coat next to his hat but Angela was already moving past him to the struggling Egyptian. With one petite hand on the taller woman’s back and the other on the doorknob, she gently lead Fareeha into her room.

 

The room was quaint and sparse, merely a twin bed shoved against one wall with a storage tub as a nightstand and a trail of clothes leading to an open closet. Without any urging from the blonde, Fareeha stumbled to her bed and fell face first with a small whimper of pain, earning a tongue click from Angela. She moved forward and guided Fareeha to her back, pulling the sling from around her neck and tucking a clump of the blanket under her wrist to keep it elevated. After a pause of consideration, she moved the woman’s legs onto the bed and untied the worn combat boots before tugging them off and placing them at the edge of the bed. 

 

Angela pulled a blanket up to cover the woman but a flash of silver at Fareeha’s neck drew her attention. A pale hand reached out and plucked up the ball chain, eyes landing on a pair of dog tags. The name was barely visible, obliterated by dents and scratches and Angela fought the urge to pull it closer for a better look. She was tucking them back under the woman’s tank when a dark hand reached up and clasped her hand, bleary umber eyes looking through, not at, the blonde.

 

“You stayed.” She stated simply, voice thick with sleep and pain killers. Angela was about to respond when a silly grin broke over Fareeha’s face. “Don’t they need you back in Heaven?”

 

Angela rolled her eyes with a snort. “Alright Casanova, time for you to sleep off whatever they gave you.” She gave a smoothing pass over the blanket before turning off the light and leaving with a whispered ‘good night.’

 

There was already a blanket and pillow on the couch when she stepped back into the living room, the drummer stood at the counter on the far wall and Jesse was nowhere to be found. With a small stretch, she shook out the last of the adrenaline from the evening and sat on the couch, slightly lumpy but comfortable. Her shoes were off and her feet tucked up on the couch in a matter of seconds, phone in her hand to check for missed messages. A small scowl darkened her face as she saw the twenty-two missed calls and even more texts. With a huff, she cleared the alerts and dropped her phone to the floor as she threw her arm over her eyes.

 

“It doesn’t get better by just ignoring them.” A pale arm lifted up to reveal tired blue eyes. Hanzo stood at her side holding a chipped mug and with a grim smile, he offered her the drink. “It’s a lavender and chamomile blend. After the night we’ve had, I thought you would enjoy a calming tea. You can leave the mug in the sink, bathroom’s at the end of the hall.” He turned and made his way toward his shared room with Jesse, but just before he left the living room, he spoke over his shoulder. “Thanks for everything tonight.” And he was gone.

 

~*~

 

Fareeha woke to the sun stabbing her eyelids. When a few hearty scrunches of her nose did nothing to clear the sleep from her eyes, she brought a hand up to wipe the crust away. And promptly smacked her nose with her cast. 

 

Suddenly the previous night came crashing back.

 

She scooted back against the headboard and tucked her feet under her, her casted wrist in her lap. The edge of the cast was frayed slightly, an annoyance, but something for her to occupy herself with instead of spiraling into the barrage of questions and anger she could feel nipping at the edges of her mind. Her fingers picked at the frayed bit of fiberglass as she stared into the middle-distance as her thoughts shifted from her current predicament to the next few months.

 

“Hey Hoss,” Jesse said as he entered her room. Fareeha didn’t move even as he sat on the edge of the bed, his knee bumping her own. The silence stretched on for a few more moments, broken only by a few car alarms and a police siren. Fareeha merely sat lost in thought, dark fingers picking at her cast. Jesse finally sighed and dropped a large warm hand over Fareeha’s, drawing her eyes and attention. He quirked a silly grin and gave her hand a squeeze. “So I spent a bit of time talkin’ with Hanzo last night. Some more this mornin’.” 

 

Fareeha opened her mouth as if to argue, her brows already furrowed, but Jesse simply raised his hand with a shake of his head. “We’re gonna take a few weeks and write some more stuff, maybe put some of our savin’ towards some new posters.” He mused, letting his words trail off.

 

“With color this time?” Fareeha asked quietly but the smirk was audible in her voice. Jesse scoffed in faked offense and reached up to ruffle her hair into even more of a bird’s nest. She laughed and ducked away, swatting at his attacking hand as she rolled to the side and untucked her feet and was off the bed in one swift move. Once she was standing, she stretched out and plodded to the door. “I’m gonna wash up and then I’ll figure out something for breakfast, okay?”

 

“Oh um, Angela actually picked us up some stuff from the bakery down the street.” He said as he followed her from the room. “I’ll get your balloon thing to cover that,” He gestured at the cast. “So grab a shower and try to tame whatever animal that is you have hibernating on your head.” He swiftly walked away before she could retort, leaving her standing in front of the bathroom door glaring at his back. Before she could shout something at him, a large yellow rubber glove was tossed at her face. “Put that on’n get in the shower, y’look like roadkill.”

 

~*~

 

The three were sitting around the table making small talk when Fareeha finally shuffled to the spare seat. The blonde pushed the box of pastries toward her with a smile as Hanzo stood to grab her a mug of coffee with a grumbled command to sit and let him handle it. Fareeha dropped into the chair with a huff and dug through the box to find something that wasn’t covered in chocolate or sprinkles. With a prized croissant and mug of coffee in front of her, she finally smiled and began to eat.

 

Angela and Hanzo picked up their previous conversation about the joys of disappointing your parents as Fareeha picked apart her pastry. While Hanzo’s parents had been divorced since he was very young, and thus splitting him and his brother in a grueling custody battle, Angela’s parents were still going strong as a huge power couple in the city’s medical field. 

 

“Leaving me with huge shoes to fill.” She groused, violently stabbing a sprinkle into her doughnut.

 

Fareeha glanced up through her lashes. “Don’t want to follow in their footsteps?”

 

“I don’t mind the medical field, honestly,” She said as she continued her assault on her breakfast. “I just didn’t choose the correct path. Mother wanted me to be just like her, ‘neurosurgeon before I was twenty-five’ was her mantra while I was still in middle school.” Her fingers stilled and her eyes flicked to the side to stare at a random stain on the far wall. “But some… issues? came up when I was fourteen that made me decide to focus on psychiatry. Graduated high school at the top of my class, received a full ride scholarship to the school of my choice but yet Mother was disappointed. So, I-” 

 

She sat up immediately, a blush painting her cheeks. “I apologize, you don’t want to hear my life story.” She checked a non-existent watch on her wrist, blatantly ignoring the protests from the three around the table as she stood and made for the door. “I’ve overstayed my welcome, I should be getting back home. Besides, Mac is probably freaking out since I didn’t come home last night.” She rattled off the last excuse as she gathered her bag by the door, leaving Jesse looking confused at the name, Hanzo indifferent and Fareeha trying adamantly to hide a fleeting look of disappointment.

 

Fareeha schooled her face into a smile and followed after the embarrassed blonde, grabbing her keys from the hook by the door as she left the apartment. She nearly crashed into the small body that was stood frozen on the landing.

 

“Angela?” She asked quietly, not wanting to spook her. “I figured I would walk you down, don’t want you getting lost.” Fareeha offered and immediately cringed as she looked at the single flight of stairs leading directly to the side of the grocery. As if by luck or simply Angela’s kind nature, the blonde nodded with a smile and ignored the terrible excuse the taller woman had made.

 

They were out by Angela’s car in a flash and they were stood at the door awkwardly as neither knew how to properly say farewell to someone they’d met in the circumstances they had. Finally, it was Angela that spoke. “Would you mind if I gave you my number? You know,” She said rapidly as if to mask her nervousness. “In case you need something, of course.” The woman at her side didn’t respond immediately and when Angela finally looked up, her breath caught at the beautiful smile on the woman’s lips.

 

Fareeha held out her hand expectantly. “Give me your phone, I’ll add my number.” With a grin, Angela dropped her bright red RAZR into Fareeha’s waiting palm and began grinning in earnest as the woman furiously typed away on the keypad, brows furrowed in concentration as she struggled to use her left hand. With a triumphant gleam in her eye, she handed the phone back to Angela. “I sent myself a text.” 

 

Angela smiled and unlocked the car, stepping halfway in. “If you need anything, give me a call okay? I mean it. I’m…” She fiddled with her keys, her eclectic mix of key chains clinking was the only sound between them. “I’m sorry for everything, so please call me if there’s anything I can do.” Her eyes shot back up as a dark hand closed over her shoulder, meeting Fareeha’s gaze. 

 

They shared a small smile and Fareeha gave her shoulder a squeeze before stepping backward onto the sidewalk. “I’ll call you.” And she was gone.

 

As soon as Fareeha stepped back into her apartment, Jesse was rambling off questions. Inquiries on her pain levels,  _ I’m fine Jesse. _ Thoughts on taking a break,  _ I really don’t know of anything else we could do _ . Did she think the blonde was cute?

 

“Jesse you heard her, she lives with someone. So what’s the point of me thinking she’s cute?” She brushed past him and started cleaning up the table from their breakfast. 

 

“Ree, I saw the way she was lookin’ at you. I don’t think there’s anyone waitin’ on’er.” He followed behind, thumbs hooked in his belt as he watched her flit around their small kitchen.

 

Fareeha scoffed as she fumbled with a mug in the sink. “So what, she just made up a random name as an excuse?” The cup slipped from her hand and banged against the sink, pulling a growl of frustration from the woman.

 

“Just leave it, I’ll get it.” He said as he bumped her out of the way and taking over with a smile. "And don't be givin' me any of that Amari glare, y'know it don't work on me. Y'should prob'ly be restin'." He said as he pointed at their couch with a soapy finger.

 

~*~

 

Angela shoved her door open and immediately stumbled over the pair of socks laying by the front entrance. She kicked them aside with a huff of frustration and dropped her bag in the nearest armchair before heading to her room. A shower was very much needed.

 

She’d made it only a few steps into her room when she tripped on yet another pair of socks. “Mac, I will  _ kill _ you.” She grumbled, kicking them aside as well on her way to her dresser for a change of clothes. 

 

Once her shower was complete and she was feeling much more human, she sat at her desk and started up her computer, navigating quickly to Myspace and a page that had been one of her favorites for a few weeks now. With a grin, she tugged her headphones from the jack and set the band’s page to play their listed songs. It was a smaller sampling than what she’d heard them play at their show, but it was enough to entertain her while she cleaned.

 

She was just about to stand and begin her weekly cleaning routine when a comment caught her eye. Namely the link next to the comment titled “Crazy bASShole.” She knew what she’d see if she clicked it but a morbid sense of curiosity already took root and before she could convince herself otherwise, she opened the link.

 

It was grainy and shaky but clearly showed Fareeha swinging her guitar to her back and leaping from the stage, her face a mask of anger. Thankfully the video cut before she was injured, Angela could still hear the sound of Fareeha’s pained cry, she didn’t want to hear it again among the shouts and faked sympathy she could hear playing over the scuffle.

 

She closed out of the browser and stared dejectedly at their Myspace header and their smiling faces, not really in the mood to clean anymore.


	3. Dirt Rich

The sound of her ringtone had Angela flying out of bed and to its home on her dresser, kept there to ensure she actually got out of bed when her alarm went off. Her phone was jerked from the charge cable, flipped open and to her ear before she even checked the time, excited and hopeful to hear Fareeha’s voice asking for some mundane favor that would allow them to meet up.

 

“Hello, Angela.” Came the very much not-Fareeha voice and Angela’s heart sank.

 

“Hi, Genji.” She tried her best to keep the disappointment out of her voice, but even if she failed, the polite man wouldn’t let her know he was offended. “What’s up?”

 

The man was silent for a moment and she could hear papers flipping in the background. There was a muffled sound and blurred speech as if he had tucked his phone against his neck to speak to someone before he finally responded. “I was wondering if you were free for dinner tonight, maybe a movie?”

 

This time she didn’t bother trying to hide her sigh. “Genji, we’ve talked about this.” She moved to sit on the edge of her bed and fell backward with an exasperated huff. He made to speak but she cut him off. “I know what Mother said, but I’ve already said my piece. I’m okay with us meeting up for a meal, but that’s it, Genji. We’re friends.” She smiled sadly to herself. “And I think that’s enough for us.”

 

She could almost feel him nod. “I know you’re right, but when I have my own mother breathing down my neck about it…”

 

Angela laughed. “Tell me about it. Mother won’t leave me alone either. _‘That Genji boy is headed places, you should get on it while you can.’_ Can you believe it? Like you’re a bullet train.” The man laughed along with her and they lapsed into a comfortable silence for a few seconds. “But I do have to decline tonight, I already had something planned. I can give you a call when I know of a free night though?” She bit her lip, hoping he didn’t pick up on her fib.

 

“That sounds like a plan, Angela.” She could hear the relieved smile in his voice. Even if it wasn’t official, they could both play the non-date off as a real one to keep their mothers at bay a bit longer. “Enjoy your evening plans.” The line disconnected and Angela pulled the phone from her ear, clicking it shut with a grumble.

 

**~*~**

 

Fareeha sat in a bright purple mushroom chair, pillows piled behind her back and a lap steel guitar laid across her thighs. Jesse sat across from her on an understuffed armchair with his guitar and a notebook balanced on the armrest. He and Hanzo had written out a chorus and a line or two that could become a catchy verse and now they were trying to set it to music. Which was difficult considering Fareeha’s need to play her lap steel reversed.

 

She’d had a string of notes in her head for a few days and was absentmindedly picking them, the notes coming out a bit too harsh and a split second later than she wanted. As she was plucking, the bar that Jesse had taped to the underside of her cast giving the notes a bit more life, Hanzo tapped out a cadence on his leg.

 

Jesse looked between them and nodded along with the beat Hanzo had set, humming a bit before singing some of the lines they had written. “Ya know, Ree. That actually works, what else ya got?”

 

She fumbled for a bit before extending her string of notes into a longer set that brought a smile to Jesse’s face. Hanzo nodded from his perch against the wall. “It’s sounding like the beginning of something. To be honest, Fareeha, I’m amazed you’re able to play so well.”

 

She hummed to herself, eyes trailing back to the instrument in her lap with a frown pulling at her lips. “Yeah for writing, but there’s no way I could do it on stage. Plus, none of our songs actually use a lap steel?”

 

“We might as well write some that do. It looks like we’ll be taking a break for the entirety of her recovery.” Hanzo offered before tossing an apologetic smile to Fareeha. “Not that I’m upset, mind you.”

 

Fareeha shot him a grin. “Hey, we deserved a _break_ right?” When both men groaned, she gave them a playful finger gun and waggled her brows, tongue coyly tucked in the side of her grin. Her laughter was interrupted by the sound of a squeak toy and she scrambled from the chair, nearly tipping it in the process, to grab her phone from the kitchen counter. She flipped it open, the metal feathers dangling from the corner clinking against her hand as she navigated to her texts. As she read, she slowly made her way back to her seat, grinning dumbly at her phone.

 

Angela: _Hey, it’s Angela, the girl from the other night? Well I guess you knew that since you sent yourself a text, unless of course you didn’t save my number. So hi, it’s Angela. I was wondering how you were feeling today?_

 

Fareeha was shocked from her reading by a booted foot shoving against the outside of her knee. “Get a room, Ree. You look like a lovestruck teenager.” Fareeha pulled herself from her chair and made her way to her room, flipping Jesse off as she left and earning a chuckle from the pair.

 

Once she was inside the relative privacy of her room, she flopped down on her bed and called Angela back. After a few rings, the woman breathlessly answered.

 

“Hey, I figured I would just call you back, texting is a bit difficult.” Fareeha explained.

 

“Oh! Of course it would be, I’m so sorry.” The blonde’s words were muffled as if she were covering her face.

 

Fareeha chuckled. “No it’s fine, I forget about it myself, honestly.”

 

The line went silent and then “You forget you have a broken wrist.” came the deadpan response. Fareeha grinned to herself sheepishly and gave her chin a scratch.

 

“It’s not like I use my hands that often.” She joked and her grin morphed to a full smile when she heard the melodic laughter through the earpiece.

 

“Well,” Angela began, smile audible in her voice. “I was calling to see how you’re feeling but you seem to be in high spirits.”

 

Fareeha rolled to her side with a grin as she toyed with a fraying feather that was hanging from a bead in her braid. She’d need to redo them soon. “That’s totally the coffee.” She hummed before amending her statement. “Plus we had a very productive day of writing.” At Angela’s encouraging ‘oh?’ Fareeha continued, talking animatedly about her discovery that she could play the lap steel guitar left handed and with a loud bark of laughter, realized she still had the bar taped to her cast. She rolled to sit up, cradled the phone between her ear and shoulder and continued chatting with Angela about their respective days while she fought to peel the tape from the plaster.

 

Their small talk continued without much lapse in conversation until “So have you eaten?” Fareeha went silent at Angela’s question, already over-thinking the tone of the blonde’s voice. Angela continued in a ramble. “I mean, I haven’t eaten and I have been craving Chinese. I saw a place just down the street from your apartment, have you tried it? I could pick us- _everyone_ up some lunch?”

 

Fareeha had been smiling and nodding absentmindedly throughout Angela’s chatter and when she noticed a pause, seized the opportunity. “That would be great.” She rolled to her feet and fumbled with the door, the faulty knob breaking off in her hand for the third time this month. She tossed it to the side with a glare and jerked the door open. “Let me just ask the boys if they want…” An empty apartment. “...Anything? Huh, okay then. Just us I suppose.” At Angela’s prompting, Fareeha rattles off her order. “I’ll see you in a bit, I’ll leave the door unlocked for you so just come in.”

 

“Okay, it’s a plan! I’ll see you soon.” Came Angela’s chipper response before the call ended.

 

With a grin and a small cheer at the chance to hang out with the blonde, Fareeha made her way to the den and began cleaning up the various pieces of trash and laundry that lay strewn about the room, quickly tidying up before the blonde arrived.

 

Fareeha was just dropping the last of the used glasses into the sink for one of the boys to wash later when she heard the quiet ‘hello?’ from the front door. “Over here.” She called and Angela’s bushy ponytail popped around the edge of the door, grin on her face. Fareeha motioned to the couch. “Make yourself comfortable. What do you want to drink?”

 

Angela dropped the bags of Chinese takeout on the coffee table and began rustling through them for the chopsticks and cutlery. “Anything cold is fine.”

 

Fareeha sat beside her, two water bottle necks grasped in her good hand and she traded a drink to the blonde for her box of takeout. They sat and ate in comfortable silence, making small talk as their tasty lunches allowed.

 

It wasn’t until the conversation turned to Angela’s admiration of their band that the blonde remembered her MySpace discovery. The mood in the room shifted as Angela deposited her mostly empty takeout on the table and leaned back. Fareeha noticed her change immediately and turned to face her with a concerned look in her eyes.

 

After a few seconds of strained silence, Angela spoke. For the first few moments it was nearly incomprehensible mumblings of apologies and pleas for forgiveness until the word ‘MySpace’ was uttered clearly enough for Fareeha to put the pieces together. “Angela, is this about the video?” Blue eyes darted away and pink blossomed over her cheeks. Fareeha chuckled and stood to grab her laptop from across the room. It was a bulky, chunky thing that she was surprised could even connect to the internet, but it worked and that’s all she could ask for.

 

She sat back down next to Angela and tugged the laptop onto her knees, struggling with the broken latch for a moment before raising the screen and navigating to the site in question. “Look.” Fareeha said, casted wrist raising to point at the video Angela had seen days prior and the comment thread resulting from it. To Angela’s surprise, the comments were filled with people supporting Fareeha’s choice, some bragging about knowing the bassist before her ‘MMA debut at the Mercy Lounge’ and a few trolling the poster about his misuse of “bass” in his pun.

 

A dark finger pointed at a comment containing a link to YouTube. “And see this?” Fareeha’s eyes shot sideways, taking in the small blonde at her side who sat meekly with her eyes trained on the screen as it loaded the video site.

 

This video was as grainy as the first but clearly showed another angle, this one including the man assaulting Angela and her grimace of pain that resulted in Fareeha diving from the stage. Angela’s jaw dropped as she read through the comments and their general encouragement of the Egyptian and questions about her relationship with the blonde. Blue eyes darted to Fareeha. “I thought… I’m so sorry, I thought I’d ruined everything.”

 

Fareeha surprised Angela with a laugh. “Even if this had blown up and was spun to look like I was nothing more than a crazed lunatic leaping on innocents to pummel them, which would have been fairly hard by the way, it’s still screen time. If we can last the storm, any publicity is good.”

 

Angela sat for a moment as if debating the truth to the woman’s words until a shoulder bumped into her own. She looked up to see Fareeha smiling at her, noticing for the first time the small dimple to the left of her grin. “C’mon, let’s find something on TV and digest. Any suggestions?”

 

Angela leaned further into the couch and tucked her legs up on the seat as she watched Fareeha flip through the channels. Finally one caught her attention and a sound of happy surprise escaped her lips. “Oh I haven’t seen NCIS in forever, could we watch that?”

 

The two spent the next half hour discussing the case playing out on the TV, each making their own predictions as to who the killer was and their motivation. When it was revealed that the killer was Angela’s pick, she turned to Fareeha with a triumphant grin to find the woman dozing against the arm of the couch. With a soft smile, she stood from her seat and gathered up their trash from lunch, dropped it off in the kitchen and then snagged a blanket from the armchair on her way back. Dark eyes blearily opened as she draped the blanket over the sleeping woman.

 

Fareeha groaned as she blinked the crust from her eyes before she noticed her predicament. A blush bloomed over her cheeks as she sat upright and scrubbed at her face. “Sorry, the pain meds make me drowsy and I guess the full stomach got to me.”

 

Angela waved her off with a polite smile. “It’s not a problem, would you like to get some rest? I can head out.”

  
Fareeha was already shaking her head at the blonde’s suggestion. “And spend the rest of the day bored and not kicking your butt at some video games?” She stood and made her way to the TV stand, fiddling with input cables before dragging out two lumpy folded mats. “You ready for the challenge?”

 

Fareeha tried to hide her excitement as she smoothed the mats out in front of the TV. Be it a need to look cool in front of the adorable blonde or to save face after falling asleep, she needed to show off and Dance Dance Revolution was the best way if she couldn’t wow her with sick guitar serenades.

 

If she had been paying attention, she would have seen the excited grin on Angela’s face.

 

“I’ll start you off easy.” Fareeha said as she navigated the song selection, grinning as inspiration struck. “When I first saw you, I thought you were an angel, so this is appropriate.” She stopped the selection wheel on Healing Vision (Angelic Mix) and stepped away from the mat. The song was tricky and would skew Angela’s view of the game, making her think it harder than it actually is, so that when Fareeha took to the mat, she’d seem even more amazing. Angela stepped onto the mat and shook out her arms as the music started up.

 

The boys came back in to see Angela scoring massive numbers and Fareeha in shock on the couch with her mouth hung open. The two deposited their leftovers in the fridge, silently eying the blonde giving it her all on Fareeha’s old mats. Jesse dropped next to the shocked bassist with a low whistle.

 

“Yer girl can move, huh.”

 

Fareeha mutely nodded her head, blush spreading to her neck.

 

**~*~**

 

Once Angela had been deemed the newest dance master, she was given the congratulatory prize of an ice cold bottle of water as she lay spread eagle on the floor, Jesse and Fareeha fanning her as she panted.

 

Hanzo had darted to his room with a ringing cellphone just after Angela had dropped to the floor and his raised voice could be heard through the thin walls. Fareeha shared a look with Jesse before pulling herself to her feet and quietly entering the room.

 

The man was pacing, phone plastered to his ear as his free hand ran through his hair before motioning grandly as his voice rose once more. “Gabe, look you don-” His eyes shot to Fareeha and his face fell. “I’ve gotta go, I’ll tell the guys.” And he snapped his phone closed with a curse and turned to Fareeha with a frown.

 

Back in the den, Angela had managed to pull herself to sitting and was slumped against the couch. Jesse was nearly at his bedroom when Fareeha stormed out and into her own, the door closing behind her with an echoing thud. Hanzo stopped at Jesse with a heavy sigh.

 

“Y’feel like tellin’ me what just happened?” Jesse asked as he shifted his weight and crossed his arms, eyebrow raised at his friend.

 

“That was Gabe.” Hanzo said with a slight scowl. “Our manager.” He explained over Jesse’s shoulder to the blonde who was folding the dance mats and trying very hard to seem as if she was not eavesdropping. “Some exec’ over at Watchpoint Records wants to hear us play.”

 

Jesse’s face fell as he put the pieces together. “I’m guessin’ sooner than she’ll be back to playin’?” Hanzo merely nodded, Jesse sighed before pushing past the drummer and towards Fareeha’s room.

 

Angela stood from her spot by the TV and made her way to Hanzo, set on offering any help she could when the shocked and angry “Ree!” echoed through the apartment. They both took off running toward Fareeha’s room and squeezed through the door to find the woman sitting on her bed, bass on her lap and a grimace of pain on her face as she forced her way through her scales. Jesse was at her side, leaning awkwardly over her with his hands hovering beside her guitar as if unsure how to stop the woman without hurting her further. He looked over at the two with a stricken expression and it spurred Angela into action.

 

Jesse backed away as the blonde moved to kneel in front of Fareeha, pale hands gently covering Fareeha’s casted arm. When she made no move to stop, Angela slid her fingers around Fareeha’s and held them until Fareeha’s blank eyes lifted to meet her own. “You’ll only make matters worse if you continue this. Please allow yourself to heal.” She all but begged. Fareeha slowly nodded and pulled her hands from the guitar, allowing Angela to hand it to Jesse who deposited it in its stand by the closet.

 

Once she had nothing to distract herself with, Fareeha sucked in a quick breath, blinking rapidly as reality began setting in. She glanced up at Jesse with a panicked look and Hanzo took the queue to distract the blonde and remove her from the room. As soon as the door shut behind the two, Fareeha broke.

 

Jesse dropped to her side and gathered her up in his arms, allowing her to cry and scream into his shoulder. Rage, self-hate, pity and frustration were yelled into his shoulder, her cast biting into his back as she held him.

 

When she calmed, he pulled her back, hands clearing the tears from her streaked and puffy face. “I’m gonna figure somethin’ out, Ree.”

 

She only shook her head, mouth moving silently before she finally found her words. “I’m gonna keep you from your big break, Jess.”

 

“ _Our_ big break, Ree. Ours. If that dillhole over at Watchpoint don’t wanna wait for you to heal up, screw’em.” He smoothed her hair down and gave her shoulders a squeeze. “It’s all of us or none of us. ‘N like I said, I’m gonna figure somethin’ out.” He checked his watch as he stood before reaching to the prescription bottle next to her bedside light. He tipped one of her pills into his palm and handed it to her with a small smile. “You gon’ be okay?”

 

Fareeha simply nodded as she swallowed the pill with a mouthful of water before climbing under the covers, shoulders slumped with exhaustion. Jesse gave her a final squeeze before flipping off her light and leaving the room.

 

Just as her door clicked shut behind him, Jesse was assaulted by Hanzo and a nervous looking Angela behind him. Jesse ignored his best friend, instead locking his eyes on the blonde.

 

“You said you knew how to play violin right? How fast ya think you can learn a couple chords on the bass?”

 

* * *

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Artwork by the amazingly multi-talented Kinaesthetic - http://archiveofourown.org/users/featheredpranks/pseuds/kinaesthetic


	4. Heart Shaped Locket

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Due to some unintended confusion, the last section has been edited. If you read the previous version of this chapter, please read that again.
> 
> (aka I didn't mean to make it as angsty and heartbreaking as it was, please don't hate me)

The four sat crammed into a back booth in a 1950’s throwback diner, the restaurant complete with checkered floor, a jukebox and costumed staff. Their plates had long since been cleared away and they sat discussing their immediate future over milkshakes. Hanzo sat leaned back next to Jesse, his hands folded behind his head as he shot glares to the booth of girls giggling behind their hands and making eyes at the singer.

 

Angela and Fareeha sat opposite, the blonde hunched over a ratty notebook as she jotted down notes from the conversation, struggling to keep the rapid fire suggestions neat and orderly. Fareeha, however, merely sat slumped against the scuffed red vinyl bench, finger picking at the still-present fray on the edge of her cast.

 

“Okay, as of right now we have four songs for the set.” Angela summerized as she looked at the mass of scribbles and notes on the paper. “How many would we want for the scout?”

 

Jesse merely held up five fingers as he sucked down another mouthful of ice cream, swallowing before tossing a grin at the booth of girls. At his side, Hanzo dropped his hands to the table with an incredulous scoff and a rattle of glassware before tossing a frustrated glare at the man.

 

The noise spooked Fareeha from her moping and she glanced up and zoned back into the conversation just as Jesse began explaining their set composition. “Basically we want a wide range of what we can do. Playing when there’s a scout in the audience isn’t just about putting on a good show, it’s also-” He sighed as if trying to choose the best way to phrase his thoughts.

 

“We’re basically whoring the band.” Fareeha said, deadpan. Angela looked over to her and her expression flashed with sadness before being quickly covered up by a wide smile.

 

“But just for one night, right?” Angela asked, placing a comforting hand on the woman’s shoulder. “And then it’s back to rocking people’s socks off!” To Fareeha’s credit, she did try to give the blonde a smile, though it came off as merely a lopsided smirk.

 

It was then that Hanzo spoke up, distracting himself from glaring daggers at the girls across the aisle. “Only this time we also need to choose songs with easy to learn chord progressions while maintaining the variety we need.”

 

At Angela’s side, Fareeha tensed, dark eyes snapping to the drummer. “Don’t say it like that. We’re lucky she said yes.” Hanzo raised his hands placatingly just as pale fingers slid over Fareeha’s arm.

 

“Hanzo is only speaking the truth. This isn’t going to be easy for me to learn and your best chance of getting that deal is to impress the scout, yes? So we need to be able to go in, best foot forward and that means choosing easier songs for me.” She watched the play of emotions cross Fareeha’s face before giving her a soothing rub with her thumb. Blue eyes darted to the drummer. “But I will do everything I can to not hold you back.”

~*~

 

Angela and Fareeha sat together on the Egyptian’s bed, cross-legged and facing one another. Fareeha’s black bass rested in her lap as she scrutinized the small scratch near the neck. After a long few minutes of silence, she heaved a sigh and spoke. “This is Wanda.” Umber eyes darted up to check for any snickering or scoffing from the blonde but found none. “She’s my dad’s and means a lot to me.” As if it had a mind of its own, Fareeha’s hand reached up to rub at her chest as her eyes darkened. “Playing it got me through some really rough times, so if I get short with how you’re fingering or holding her, I’m asking your forgiveness ahead of time.” She finished with a dopey grin as if trying to mask the awkward turn the day had taken.

 

Angela nodded, a serious look on her face. “I’ll be very careful with Wanda, I promise.” There was no mocking or humor in her voice, instead her words were tinted with a decisive tone.

 

Fareeha gave one more sigh and scooted herself forward to place the bass in the woman’s lap. She gave her a few tips on hand and arm placement and started running her through basic chords that their songs used, but before long she noticed a strain in her back from the awkward position. “Do you mind if I…” She began quietly as she sat up straight and rolled her spine a bit, enjoying the grimace on the blonde’s face as a series of pops sounded off. “If I sit behind you, I can guide you a bit better.”

 

Angela’s head dropped and she nodded, hopeful that her bangs were hiding her blush. “Sure, if you think that would help me learn faster.” Her blush deepened as Fareeha stood and moved behind her before crawling back onto the bed at her back. Dark hands moved up to guide Angela’s fingers against the strings as she lead her through the chords once more, calling out the notes in a soft whisper.

 

The heat in Angela’s cheeks finally faded away as she concentrated on memorizing every tiny movement her fingers were making. She was unsure of how long they worked, Fareeha’s gentle and calloused fingers pressing against her own but Fareeha’s chest pushing against her back snapped her attention to the Egyptian.

 

A fierce blush bloomed across her cheeks and she stuttered out the first question she could think of. “So tell me about Wanda?” Angela bit her lip, hoping she hadn’t pushed too far when she felt Fareeha straighten behind her and her guiding hands slow before dropping away.

 

Angela gingerly placed Wanda on the bed before scooting to the side and turning to face the now withdrawn bassist. Fareeha sat cross legged and picked at a loose thread on her bedding, her casted hand rubbing at her chest once again. After a few moments of silence, she spoke.

 

“My dad played this really moving song at my mother’s funeral. She um…” Fareeha pulled at the ball chain around her neck but not quite tugging it from her shirt. “She was killed in action when I was younger. I can barely remember the sound of her voice, the smell of her perfume, but I remember the song my dad played, echoing in my head.” She leaned forward and tugged Wanda closer before picking at the notes with her injured hand. The melody was as haunting as the look in Fareeha’s eyes. A cool hand dropped over Fareeha’s, fingers threading through her own. Dark eyes darted up to meet Angela’s and Fareeha cleared her throat awkwardly though she didn’t pull her hand away. “But that’s when I really started learning how to play. Mom taught me how to play instruments from her home but that day, I fell in love with the bass. It was my way of keeping both of my parents close.”

 

“It’s beautiful then, that you’re able to chase your dreams while keeping your mother close.” The words were soft and caused a small smile to tease at the corner of Fareeha’s lips. The bassist gave Angela’s fingers a soft squeeze before pulling away and moving to stand. Wanda was placed in her stand before Fareeha turned and held her hand out to the blonde.

 

“Let’s take a break and get some dinner, we’ve been going at this a while.”

 

~*~

 

The mood on the street was just beginning to shift from the tourist dinner rush to the stream of locals when Angela and Fareeha stepped out of the Venezuelan market in search of food. Nashville at night was possibly one of Fareeha’s favorite things about the city. It had the hustle of a larger city but still kept to its quaint roots, and one of her common haunts was just up the street from their walkup.

 

The little hole-in-the-wall vendor was tiny and ran by one man. From the look of it, it was a miracle the place passed inspection but with a gentle smile and comforting nudge from Fareeha, Angela was taking in the long line of customers waiting for their chance at the window.

 

“Don’t worry, it’s actually very clean. I’ve never gotten sick from eating here and I’m here at least twice a week when the gigs are good.” Fareeha lead them into the line and gave a small wave to the owner when he looked up. He returned the gesture and went back to filling orders as fast as they were shouted. “He began in a cart and finally earned enough to rent this place. It’s little more than what you see, maybe ten square feet total, but he’s killing it.”

 

“If he is so successful why hasn’t he moved to a larger location? Hired more staff?” Angela asked, eyes never leaving his quick and methodical movements as he layered up dish after dish.

 

“Because all of his profits go back to his family in Korea.” Fareeha explained. Angela merely nodded and let the conversation lapse into a comfortable silence as they shuffled forward. It wasn’t until they reached the window that she realized she had no clue what to order.

 

Fareeha placed a gentle hand on her shoulder and grinned. “Trust me.” She then leaned forward so the owner could hear her through the plexiglass and street noise, but though she was a mere foot away, Angela couldn’t understand a word she said.

 

“I’m sorry, was that _Korean_?” Angela asked once Fareeha finished their order. Fareeha merely waved her off and accepted their treats with a smile. Flustered, Angela made to follow after the woman but stopped short, turned and stuffed a twenty dollar bill into the tip jar with a smile.

 

When she turned back, Fareeha was grinning at her. “What, I want to help his family, okay? More importantly, how do you know Korean?”

 

Fareeha laughed and held out a stick of _something_ wrapped in wax paper before explaining. “I don’t know how to speak Korean, I know how to place my order and make small talk, all for and from him. Now try this, you’ll want to eat it before the humidity gets to it.” She motioned to the treat in Angela’s hand before tugging away her own wax paper.

 

Inside was a neat row of ruby red strawberries, glazed with a hard sugar mixture. Tentatively, Angela brought the stick to her mouth and took a nibble. Her eyes grew wide with childlike glee and she ate the rest of the strawberry in one bite. “This is amazing!” She exclaimed through strawberry and sugar.

 

Fareeha chuckled, already on her third strawberry. “It’s hardly dinner, but it’s something until we find a place to get real food.” She glanced over shyly as they began walking once more. “Plus it’s my way of thanking you for being so understanding today. You’re actually the first person I’ve let play Wanda.”

 

“Not even Jesse?” Angela ventured.

 

Fareeha shook her head. “Not even Jesse.”

 

If Angela had a bit more puff to her chest, neither woman mentioned it.

 

“So now that your first day is out of the way and you’ve seen a bit of what you’re in for, still willing to help us out?”

 

Angela gave her a playful glare. “Of course, I don’t go back on my word.”

 

Fareeha nodded as she chewed on a bit of sugar still clinging to her stick. “So how about singing? Can you-”

 

She was interrupted by peals of laughter from the blonde. “Oh goodness, no. I couldn’t carry a tune if you gave me a bucket.”

 

Fareeha smirked and gave a small nod. “Noted. I guess I’ll still get to be on stage then.” She gave her stick a toss, landing it in a trash bin as they passed it. She was so busy lining up her shot that she didn’t notice Angela slow until she was a few feet behind her. “Angela?” She called gently and the woman looked up but didn’t move.

 

“I know it should have clicked before, I mean I saw you guys on stage and me offering to help you meant I’d be there, but I never really _thought_ about it until now but I’m going to have to be on stage and-”

 

Fareeha stopped her rambling by gripping Angela’s fingers in her own and tugging her to the side and out of the way of foot traffic. “Breathe, organize and try that again?” She asked with a quiet chuckle.

 

Angela took a deep breath to steady herself and began again. “When I was little, my mother forced me into violin lessons. I started out loving it, the joy of being able to take wood and string and make music was captivating. I could tell epic stories without ever picking up a pen or speaking.” She leaned against the brick wall at her back, huge grin on her face giving way to a more somber look. “When she decided I was good enough to not embarrass the family, I was put in recitals.” At her side, Fareeha hummed as if she already knew where the story was headed. “Let’s just say that I didn’t do well and Travis McCormick will never again wear galoshes.”

 

Fareeha tried to muffle her bark of laughter but failed. She looked over at Angela with wide eyes and grin. “Really?”

 

Angela giggled. “Really really.” She mimed vomiting with her hand. “Right off the stage. It was terrible. After that one, I was able to hold in the nausea for fear of more repeats, but each recital ended with me running off the stage in tears.”

 

Angela nearly fell over as she felt a pinkie link with her own, blush igniting her cheeks. “Well I suppose if you run off crying this time, you’ll have someone there for you.”

 

~*~

 

Fareeha entered the kitchen nook with a giddy grin and found Jesse already at the table, cup of coffee in one hand and a newspaper in the other. She dropped into the chair opposite him with a sigh and he looked up and immediately laughed.  
  
“Ya skip yer shower?” He grinned over the paper. “Cause the roadkill’s back.”

 

Fareeha shot him a glare before plucking the mug from his hand and taking a large sip. “I just happened to have a very good night last night.”

 

Jesse hummed and gave the newspaper a brief flick before resuming his reading. “With Angela?” He probed. The only answer was a sigh that quickly transformed from a happy sound to one of dread. With a groan he folded the paper and sat it aside, stealing back his mug with a glare before taking a few swigs of coffee. “Don’t be givin’ me that face, I already told ya she likes you.”

 

“Maybe, but it doesn’t matter.” She moped as she dragged herself to her feet melodramatically before shuffling to the counter for her own mug of coffee. Once she had her drink in hand, she leaned against the counter, staring into the swirling coffee in her mug. “She ran off last night after making more excuses about Mac. I was pretty sure I was obvious enough?”

 

Jesse stood and made his way over to lean next to her, hands braced behind him on the rim of the counter. “And? Maybe she was just nervous. Ya spooked her or somethin’.”

 

“Jess, let’s face it. She’s only hanging around because she feels guilty.” She gave her cast a wave for emphasis. “Any ‘look’ she’s giving me is pity.”

 

He heaved a sigh and draped an arm over her shoulders, tugging her close. “There ain’t an ounce’a pity in the looks she’s givin’ ya.” Her arm wrapped around his waist and she dropped her head to his shoulder. “So stop yer mopin’ and try again. Like I said, ya prolly just startled’er.” She shot him a petulant glare and he grinned, happy to see he was finally breaking through her melancholy. With an over-exaggerated sound, he dropped a sloppy kiss to the side of her head.

 

This was the scene Angela walked in on as she entered the apartment for her next day of lessons with a chipper “Morning!”

 

As soon as she took in Jesse and Fareeha’s position, she backpedaled back onto the landing, pulling the door with her as she shouted apologies for intruding. The door was tugged from her hand and she glanced up to see Jesse standing in the doorway with a sheepish grin on his face.

 

“Sorry ‘bout that, it wasn’t what it looked like, I swear.” He tried to explain as Angela tried her best to hide her blush.

 

She was waving off his words before he even finished speaking them. “It’s not a problem, it’s your home, you should be allowed to show affection without someone barging in. I apologize, I’ll be sure to knock next time.”

 

“We gave you a key for a reason.” Fareeha spoke from behind Jesse’s shoulder before shoving him to the side and motioning for the blonde to follow. “Let’s go ahead and get started.”

 

As soon as they were in Fareeha’s room, the bassist scooped her sling up from her bedside tote and tossed it around her neck. At Angela’s questioning glance, she explained. “I did a bit too much yesterday, it’s killing me today so I’m going to let it rest.” She motioned for Angela to sit on the bed before claiming a spot on the opposite end. “Let’s see how much you remember from yesterday. I’ll name some notes and chords and you see if you can play them. Sound good?”

Angela nodded silently, mind struggling to focus on the strings at her fingertips.

 

~*~

 

“Alright, so we only have a few more days before we’re set to meet with the Watchpoint representative.” Hanzo spoke as he sat with Jesse at their dining table. “Do you think she’s ready?”

 

Jesse scoffed as he glanced at the girls on the couch as Angela played their opening song. “With the way Ree’s been drillin’ her? Only one way t’find out.” He stood and stretched out his back with a few pops before grabbing his guitar from its stand by the couch and plopping on the couch next to Angela.

 

Hanzo disappeared down the hallway before reemerging with a grin and something hidden behind his back. “Fareeha.” He said, voice betraying none of his mirth. “I have a fever.”

 

Dark eyes shot up to meet his. “If you so much as fin-”

 

“And the only prescription.”  
  
  
“Hanzo I swear, I will k-”

 

“Is more cowbell.”

 

Silence reigned over the room as the stoic drummer faced off with the bassist as he held out the instrument to her. After a few moments she ripped the cowbell from his hand and balanced it in her lap. “You guys do your thing.” She raised a finger to silence Hanzo. “And I’m not playing the cowbell.”

 

“But Ree,” Jesse spoke up, earning a glare from the Egyptian. “You’re doin’ yerself a disservice really.” His laughter was cut off by a pillow hitting him in the side of the head before Fareeha pulled herself to her feet and made for the kitchen. “Alright fine, let’s see whatcha got, Ange.”

 

Angela rolled her eyes at the nickname but nodded, eyes locked on her hands as Jesse began to play their opener. Hanzo joined Fareeha at the counter as she watched the two play. “You taught her well.”

 

Fareeha’s eyes were locked on the blonde, a smile curling her lips as Angela began to loosen up and have fun playing alongside Jesse. “She’s amazing.” She said softly, as if entranced by the beauty on the couch.

 

~*~

 

Fareeha and Angela sat on the edge of the stage, their feet thudding against the paneling as they basked in the energy that was the Mercy Lounge before a show. Jesse and the owner stood to the side, the singer’s hat clutched in his hands as he was giving the apology speech he’d been rehearsing since they got the call about a scout.

 

“You nervous?” Angela asked.

 

“Not really. If he doesn’t like us we’ll get a break somewhere else.” Fareeha replied sagely.

 

Angela laughed, the sound drawing the attention of the owner for a moment before he was pulled back into the conversation with Jesse. “I think we could do without another break tonight.” She joked.

 

Fareeha leaned away from the blonde as if offended, her hand coming up to cover her cast and sling wrapped arm. “Angela, you _wound_ me! Joking about my injury like that… Someone has been a bad influence on you.”

 

The blonde merely laughed and dropped her head to Fareeha’s shoulder. “I hope I don’t let you down.” She said quietly. Her whispered words earned her a sigh from the bassist.

 

“You’ve already gone above and beyond anything we could have ever asked for.” Fareeha turned to face Angela fully, tucking a foot under her knee. “No matter the outcome of tonight, I will forever thank you for doing what you have.”

 

Angela’s eyes dropped to her wringing hands in her lap and gave them a few rapid blinks to dry the oncoming tears. “It was the least I could do, really.” Her eyes shot to the woman at her side when a warm hand dropped over her own.

 

“Angela, I-” Fareeha was cut off by the side door slamming shut. They both looked up and Angela hopped from the stage and dashed across the seating area to hug the Japanese man that had just entered.

 

“I thought you weren’t going to be back in town until Wednesday!” Angela exclaimed as she pulled away from the man, her voice easily carrying across the room. He replied, his words whispered and intimate, with a grin and a gesture at the stage. Fareeha stood awkwardly at the edge of the stage, her mind already imagining all of the sweet and loving things the man was saying to her as she watched the two interact for a moment before making her way to the couple.

 

“Hi, I’m Fareeha,” She said as she approached, her hand out, determined to make a good impression on the man that had snagged Angela’s heart. “You must be Mac.”

 

Confusion crossed the man’s face before quickly being masked with a polite smile as he shook her hand. “It’s nice to meet you. I couldn’t pass up seeing Angela’s debut, so I had to come.” Angela opened her mouth to speak but she was silenced with a look from the man.

 

Fareeha nodded politely, small smile on her lips but not reaching her shuttered eyes. She slowly stepped backward, offered an excuse of finding their lost drummer to the couple and turned. Fareeha tried her best to ignore the weight that had settled in her chest. _Jesse was wrong_ , she lamented. _There_ is _a Mac._

 

She tossed one last look over her shoulder before stepping outside, her stomach clenching as she watched the man place a gentle hand on Angela’s back as the blonde lead him to the stage with an excited grin.

 

**BONUS**

_A lot of you asked in the comments for the cowbell scene to be drawn, and what do you know? The amazing Budgiebum and Lesbeanlatte came through for you guys <3 Check Bean out @lesbeanlatte on twitter and the same name on tumblr._  
  


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	5. Pawn Shop

Hanzo sat at the table with a bowl of cocoa puffs and a chipped mug filled with his morning tea. At his side, Fareeha lay slumped against the table, cast in her lap and face planted against the wood, her free hand curled around a cooling and untouched cup of coffee. The two were recovering after their late night at the Lounge.

 

Despite Angela’s nerves and Fareeha’s paranoia that the men from their first visit to the Lounge would return to heckle the band’s biggest night, the show had gone off without a hitch. The after party had gone even better, though it left Fareeha and Hanzo nearly comatose at the kitchen table.

 

With a bang and a whoop of joy, Jesse burst out of his bedroom, his laptop in hand and a huge smile on his face. Hanzo raised an eyebrow at the man as he sat down. Fareeha merely groaned and sluggishly tugged her cup of coffee closer in a protective embrace.

 

“Y’ain’t gon’ believe this.” He drawled as he popped open his laptop and began. “Highnotes.com ran a piece on us. ‘If you’ve never had the chance to listen to The Deadlock Gang, get into a show while you can. It won’t be long until they’re filling sold out stadiums. The lead singer, Jesse McCree has the voice of a crooning cowboy and captivates the audience with his powerful vocals. The newly joined bassist was a quick addition after last month’s altercation at the Mercy Lounge, filling the spot of previous guitarist Fareeha Amari who took to the stage last night as backup vocals and a charming use of the cowbell.” Jesse shot the Fareeha lump a coy grin. “All in all, The Deadlock Gang is a force to be reckoned with. Stand aside Rascal Flatts, there’s a new hit band in town.”

 

Hanzo was grinning into his tea and Fareeha had managed to pull herself to a more upright sitting position as Jesse read. When he finished and Fareeha began to cheer, he held up his hand. “Hang on, now. There’s more. Gabe forwarded it this mornin’.” He navigated through a few things on his screen before reading again. “To Mr. McCree, please accept our congratulations on the successful showing at the Mercy Lounge, blah blah blah.” He skimmed through a bit more before grinning and giving a meaningful glance to the two opposite him. “We would be highly interested in setting up a time for an interview with The Deadlock Gang.”

 

“From?” Hanzo urged, his cereal forgotten. At his side, Fareeha leaned forward on the edge of her seat.

 

Jesse shot the two a meaningful look with a sly grin. “Nashville Scene.” He was answered with twin cheers of excitement.

 

“I’ve gotta tell Angela!” Fareeha exclaimed as she leapt from her chair and dashed into her room in search of her phone. As she searched for her phone in her mounded bedsheets, her mind wandered to the blonde. The way she’d selflessly stepped up and helped out, single-handedly (Fareeha laughed to herself at the pun) saved the band during their time of need. She’d told Fareeha about playing violin when she was younger, but the speed at which she picked up the bass was mind boggling. Sure, she was simply playing a few chord progressions, but to tackle that _and_ her fear of the stage? For them?

 

 _I need to get her something as a thank you,_ she thought as she finally pulled her phone from between the mattress and wall. She flipped it open and held down Angela’s speed dial before tucking the phone against her ear, absently pacing around her room as she let it ring.

 

After a few seconds, Angela picked up with a perky “Hey, Fareeha!”

 

“Text me your address.” Fareeha blurted out the second Angela answered, completely speaking over the blonde’s greeting.

 

Silence stretches on for a few seconds. “Is everything okay, Fareeha?” Angela finally asks.

 

“Everything’s great, I have a surprise for you and it’d best be done in person.”

 

“Oh, well okay.” Angela responds slowly. “I’ll send my address, just promise you’ll drive safe, you seem pretty hyped up.”

 

Fareeha agrees with a smile and disconnects after their parting words. While she waits for the text, she boots up her laptop and finds the article Jesse had read. A sound of a squeak toy and she’s copying Angela’s address into Mapquest before printing off the article and the directions.

 

She threw on some clothes, just some black jeans and a brown and blue button up, and grabbed her leather jacket, stuffing her papers into the inside pocket and she was out the door in a flash.

 

**~*~**

 

Fareeha rolled to a stop at the entrance to the subdivision, her leg dropping to the pavement to brace the weight of her ‘96 Harley as she dug out the Mapquest directions once more. She flipped up the visor of her helmet and scrutinized the landscaped sign proclaiming the name of the community before nodding to herself and continuing along the manicured drive.

 

The homes were neatly arranged in clusters, ranging from simple apartment style housing to more chic townhomes, each with their own patch of neatly trimmed lawn. She navigated her way to unit 2314, stopped and turned off her bike. The startling silence was deafening. She tugged off her helmet, her lip caught between her teeth, suddenly very self conscious of her appearance in this lavish subdivision. With a shake of her head, she climbed from the bike and stowed her helmet before making her way up to Angela’s door.

 

Fareeha stood on the small porch for a few moments shifting her weight and tugging at her clothes. She raised her arm to knock on the door, using the chance to give herself a courtesy sniff before giving the wood a few swift knocks.

 

The door swung open nearly immediately. “Is it about the show? Is it good? Are you firing me? Oh my gosh how rude of me, please come in.”

 

Fareeha grinned through the onslaught of questions and followed Angela in when the blonde stepped aside. Angela’s home was nearly the opposite of her own. Where Fareeha’s walkup was dirty brown carpet and faux wood paneling, Angela’s was white and crisp with pops of red and chrome around the room. Nothing was out of place and it looked more like a showroom than a home.

 

Along the far wall, Fareeha noticed a row of neat, professionally framed Broadway playbills with what seemed to be autographs. She made to take a step towards them, her curiosity peaked when she tripped over something on the floor and nearly fell.

 

Angela’s hands shoot out to steady her, cheeks pink. “I’m so sorry, that’s Mac, he leaves socks laying around.” She bent down to scoop up the offending socks before turning toward the far hallway. “Oh! Let me get him for you!” She said with a grin.

 

Before Fareeha could protest Angela was gone. “That’s really not necessary…” She mumbled to the empty room as she awkwardly stood in Angela’s entryway.

 

A few moments later Angela returned with a wriggling ball of orange fur. “This is Mac!” She hefted the large cat higher into her arms with a grin. “Short for Macavity because he’s a terror. Have you seen the show Cats?”

 

Fareeha merely stood in shock as all of the pieces began clicking together. “A… cat.” She finally said, words quiet in disbelief. “Then who was…”  


“The guy last night?” Angela finished before letting Mac jump down and scurry from the room. “That was Genji, a friend. He’s the son of a pharmaceutical guru here in town. Mother keeps trying to force us to date,” Angela pulled a face, distaste clear on her features. “But he’s always been and always will be just a friend.” She moved to the couch and dropped into the plush white cushions, tugging a decorative pillow to the side before tapping the couch invitingly.

 

Fareeha stood for a moment longer, small grin on her face as she processed Angela’s words. When the blonde cleared her throat quietly, Fareeha laughed a bit and sat beside her. “So um, yeah.” She scratched at the back of her head, pink tinting her cheeks, before pulling out the folded article. “This was on a local review site this morning.” She passed the paper to Angela, dark eyes watching her closely to judge her emotions as she read. “Gabe also got an email from Nashville Scene asking for an interview.”

 

Blue eyes darted up from the paper and Angela smiled. “Fareeha this is wonderful!” Angela darted forward and grabbed Fareeha up in a hug, the article crinkling against her leather jacket. Fareeha had just brought her hands up to return the gesture when Angela pulled swiftly away, a blush on her cheeks. “T-This was a wonderful surprise, thank you.”

 

Fareeha gave the blonde a lopsided smirk. “Oh, this isn’t all of your surprise. Are you free for a trip into the city?” She asked as she stood.

 

A huge grin lit up Angela’s face. “I’m free all day, I’m yours.”

 

Fareeha sharply turned toward the door to hide her blush at Angela’s choice of words. “Alright, let’s go then.”

 

They were out the door in a matter of seconds and their fast pace immediately froze as Angela took in Fareeha’s vehicle. “Fareeha Amari, you best say that this is a joke.” When the woman simply made her way to the bike and retrieved the helmet from the hand grip and a second from its clip against the back rail, Angela crossed her arms and gave her head a firm shake. “You have a broken wrist. You’re in a _cast._ How- _Why_ are you driving that?”

 

During Angela’s spiel, Fareeha had donned her helmet and flipped the visor up, her smiling eyes visible through the mask and her next words muffled. “Alright _Doctor_ Ziegler, first off I checked with my regular physician and she said it wasn’t recommended but as long as I had proper control and didn’t do anything crazy, I could still ride.” She moved forward to place the second helmet over Angela’s head and tried her best to tighten it snugly. “Second, this is Hanzo’s helmet. His head is much smaller than Jesse’s in pretty much every way, physically and figuratively.” They shared a laugh, Fareeha concentrating on tightening the chin strap and Angela actively _not_ concentrating on the feel of Fareeha’s fingers ghosting over her neck. “But if you catching a ride with me is going to become a regular thing, we need to get you your own helmet. They need to fit correctly to be safest.”

 

Angela nodded and watched as Fareeha mounted the bike, her blue eyes swimming with trepidation. “I’ve never actually been on a motorcycle.” She admitted softly.

 

Fareeha simply gave her a smile and motioned to the small seat behind her. “Climb on, don’t worry about shifting your weight around right now, I’ve got it braced.” She gave the bike a small wiggle for emphasis. Angela complied and clambered on, her feet tucking on to the small pegs and her hands fluttering awkwardly over Fareeha’s waist. The Egyptian leaned to the side and twisted, giving Angela a small smile. “You can either put your hands on my waist right here.” She tapped against her flank. “Or on your own knees. Sadly that whole ‘wrap your arms around the driver’ romantic cliche is just that, a dangerous cliche.” She ended with a coy grin and slight eyebrow waggle before flipping both of their visors down and turning. When she started up the bike and began to pull away, Angela’s hands snapped to her waist, fingers digging into the leather, and didn’t move for the entirety of their trip.

 

**~*~**

 

Fareeha pulled into a parking spot in front of a pawn shop that straddled the changeover from inner city Nashville to the more artsy East Nashville. It was one she and the boys had frequented fairly often in their first few weeks in the city, slowly pawning off what they could to make ends meet when the shows were slow or pity money wasn’t as forthcoming from Hanzo’s father.

 

They stepped inside and Fareeha gave a wave to the shop owner, Harold, before pointing out the instruments hanging on the back wall. “You mentioned getting back into the violin if you conquered your stage fright. Go try a few out, see if any speak to you.”

 

Angela nearly sprinted to the far wall with a girlish squeal. Fareeha merely chuckled and stepped up to the counter, leaning against it casually as the shop owner came over.

 

“What can I do for ya, Reeha?” He asked, his voice gravelly from years of cigarettes and he grunted as he leaned against the glass counter on crossed arms. “That’cher girl over there?”

 

Fareeha fiddled with something in her pocket as she watched Angela dart between violins, the shop hand barely able to keep up with her rapid fire pointing and requests to see one of the instruments up close. “Something like that. Hey, so,” She began before dropping her voice to a whisper and turning closer Harold. “If I were to trade for one of those violins, would this cover it?” She pulled a small velvet bag from her pocket and sat it on the counter between them.

 

Harold reached over with a meaty hand and withdrew the gold and diamond ring from within, his brows furrowed in thought. “Fareeha-”

 

“I’m really going to do it this time.” She said with a quiet laugh, her left hand raised defensively.

 

“You’ve come in here at least ten times to pawn this thing and ea-”

 

“Every time I chicken out.” Fareeha finished. “I have enough of my mother to remember her by. She didn’t even wear the thing anyway.”

 

“Fareeha, look!” Angela’s call interrupted the two and when Fareeha looked over, Angela was stood at the counter holding a glossy white violin. “Look, it’s already set up for fiddling!” She said with a point to the bridge. “I figure that would go better with your band than stuffy classical, right?” And with that, she turned her back on Fareeha to ogle the instrument a bit more, completely missing the dopey grin on Fareeha’s face at the thought of Angela sticking around after she was healed.

 

“She’s worth it.” Fareeha whispered.

 

Behind her, Harold sighed. “For you, Reeha, this’ll do for trade. Let me get your paperwork.”

 

After the necessary papers are signed and her mother’s wedding band passed over, Fareeha made her way to Angela who was fussing over the fine tuners. “Ready to head out, then?” Angela looked up, happy grin wilting as she went to hand the violin back to the shop hand. Fareeha held up the receipt with a silly grin. “Oh, should I return it then? Was there another you wanted instead?”

 

Angela stood there in silence, jaw agape, as the shop hand zipped the violin into its case. “You… You mean…”

 

Fareeha took the case from the assistant with a smile and nod of thanks before handing it to Angela with a purposeful look. “It’s a thank you, Angela. I owe you so much more than this, but for now it’s the most I can get you to show my appreciation.”

 

Angela held the case with near reverence, her head bowed over it and a thumb stroking at the fiberglass case. Fareeha swore she heard a sniffle. “Thank you, Fareeha.”

 

“That’s my line.” Fareeha joked as she lead the blonde from the shop. “Let’s get that back to your place, hm?”

 

As they’re strapping their helmets on, Angela speaks. “Yes, I’d hate for something to happen to it. And after, if you don’t mind driving back to town, I’m taking you to lunch as a thank you.” Fareeha made to protest against Angela paying. “No, I will treat you and that’s final.”

 

With a sigh of defeat, Fareeha started up the bike. “Fine, but I pick the place.”

 

**~*~**

 

They pulled into a bright red and yellow building that at first glance, doesn’t look like anywhere you’d stop to eat. Once Angela was off the bike, Fareeha followed and lead her inside. Instantly the smell of roasting meats, gravy and handmade breads assault their senses and both of their mouths began to water.

 

“Okay, maybe I judged a bit too soon.” Angela said with a laugh.

 

“The line is actually quite short, we’re a bit ahead of the lunch rush.” Fareeha explained as she lead the pair to the counter. She pointed at the line of food behind the glass. “Everything is made from scratch and done in house with local ingredients. I’ve yet to have anything bad from here, so pick your favorites.”

 

At her side, Angela squirmed a bit. “I’ve never actually had any of this.” She said as she searched the different foods for something familiar. “Mother was always very strict about eating very healthy and it was a habit that stuck. Sometimes I’ll sneak and have fast food, but something about the heaviness of southern food kept me from trying it.”

 

“Well,” Fareeha began, her voice and face a mask of faked offense before cracking into a smile. “I suppose you’ll just have to pick a few things and I’ll make sure I get different types so you can try as much as possible.”

 

They choose their items and Angela paid with a smile before following Fareeha to a small table in the back corner. Their trays could barely fit on the small surface and the blonde shot Fareeha a questioning look. “It’s really laid back here. Once the rush starts, people will sit anywhere that’s open, so I try to snag this table any time I come.” She tamped her straw out of it’s wrapping and dropped it into her glass of sweet tea. “Not that I dislike sharing with people, I just like the privacy a bit more.”

 

Angela smiled as she tugged her fork from the rolled napkin. “I understand that. I don’t know if I could eat with some stranger bumping my elbow.”

 

Fareeha grinned in response and they both lapsed into a comfortable silence as they began to eat; Angela bragging on something on her plate and Fareeha slicing off bits of her food for her to try. After their food began to clear, Fareeha spoke. “So tell me a bit more about yourself.”

 

“There’s not much more to tell really, I’m pretty much an open book.” She began to tick off items on her fingers as she spoke. “I play violin, mom and dad unhappily married but sticking it out because they’re richer together, Broadway nut, have an insane sock obsessed cat.”

 

“What about college? You mentioned something about that before.”

 

Angela’s eyes dropped to her plate as she pushed a bit of potato through her sausage gravy. She heaved a sigh. “When I was in middle school, this small town in New Hampshire… Back then and in that small of a town, it was as good as a curse if someone called you gay. It was really rough for kids who were and it was terror for one kid in particular. Every day they’d come to school more and more withdrawn.” She moved to stabbing the bit of potato. “They’d skip lunch to avoid the ridicule, sometimes even ditching school if the harassment was bad enough… All they needed was someone to tell them it was okay, that _they_ were okay and that nothing was wrong with them. They needed someone in their corner.” Angela’s eyes began to tear and she blinked them rapidly to clear away the offending moisture. She looked up in surprise as a warm hand dropped over her own, meeting Fareeha’s supporting smile. Fareeha gave her hand a soothing rub with her thumb and Angela continued. “So I decided then and there that I would be the person for them to talk to. So I went to the career planning office and switched everything and never looked back.”

 

“That’s very admirable.” Fareeha said as she gave Angela’s hand another squeeze. “Were you able to help the kid?”

 

Angela looked up through blonde lashes. “ _I_ was that kid. I needed that someone.”

 

Dark eyes met blue and Fareeha leaned forward, her casted hand coming up to brush a few stray hairs behind Angela’s ear. “I’d be that someone.” And then in a nervous ramble with a heavy blush she continued. “If you still need someone that is, I mean it’s pretty presumptuous of me I suppose, I’m so-”

 

Angela’s giggles drown out Fareeha’s rambled apology. “Thank you.” She says, giving Fareeha’s hand a squeeze of her own. The silence stretched on for a few more moments before Fareeha tugged her hand away with a muttered ‘sorry.’

 

“Do you want to try their famed banana pudding?” Fareeha asked as a way to break the tension.

 

Angela merely laughed and shook her head. “There’s no way, I probably won’t eat for a week!” She said, giving her belly a rub as emphasis.

 

**~*~**

 

They came to a stop at Angela’s townhouse. Fareeha waiting patiently for Angela to climb from the bike before she followed along, walking her to her door. Angela stopped on the porch and gave Fareeha a huge grin. “Thank you for everything, I had a wonderful time today.”

 

Fareeha gives her a lopsided grin. “I did too, we should make a habit of it.”

 

“Of course!” Angela agrees before tugging her lower lip between her teeth. She slowly shuffled backward toward her door before stopping, her hand reaching toward Fareeha as if on its own. Fareeha shot her a confused look and then Angela was shooting forward and onto her toes. She dropped a kiss on Fareeha’s cheek, lips brushing the corner of Fareeha’s mouth, before she turned quickly toward the door to hide her massive blush.

 

With a whispered ‘goodbye’ she was inside the house and a stunned Fareeha was left on the front porch, fingers against the patch of skin Angela had just kissed, dopey grin on her face.

 

* * *

 

 

 

By: https://caleb-crow.tumblr.com


	6. Greener Pastures

Angela paced from her kitchen to her couch, her hand twisting in her ponytail as she grumbled to herself. She’d heard Fareeha drive away from her home a few minutes after she fled inside and flung herself into bed. She woke up the next morning in yesterday’s clothes and a terrible pillow crease running the length of her cheek, the pit of worry in her stomach coming back. She had been wearing a hole in the floor since. 

 

The kiss had surprised the both of them. She’d seen the flash of shock on Fareeha’s face before she dashed inside and for a split second, Angela had felt proud to have caused that expression on the taller woman. But as soon as the door had shut, as soon as the silence of her home began to press in around her, Angela remembered. Fareeha was with Jesse. 

 

She remembered the way they interacted, the way he held and touched her, that comfortable way that can only be gained through years of a relationship. The private way he’d whispered to her that night at the Lounge, the way her cheeks had reddened at the words he was crooning into her ear.

 

Angela pressed the heels of her hands against her temples and sank into her armchair, her elbows resting on her knees as she squeezed her eyes shut. She’d ruined everything. There was no way Fareeha would want her to continue playing for the band. 

 

She gave a hearty sniff and sat up, watery eyes staring at everything and nothing before eventually landing on the black case resting on her dining room table. The glossy black fiberglass case stood out like a beacon on the glass tabletop, it’s surface picking up the recessed lights as if mocking and calling to her all at once.

 

She stood and rubbed at her eyes as she made her way to the case, timid hands reaching out to pull at the zipper. The violin was beautiful, sleek lines and crisp white. She’d need to pay Fareeha back after her stunt on the porch.

 

Her fingers ghosted over the strings for a moment before she pulled it from its padded rest, teasing the strings to test its tune. She grabbed the bow and made her way back to her armchair before tuning it by ear as best as she could. Satisfied, she gave it a few experimental runs through her scales, muscle memory from a decade past guiding her fingers.

 

Angela sat in her chair, back ramrod straight as she played her way through one of her favorite pieces, Schön Rosmarin. Her fingers fumbled a bit, too used to the harsh holds of the bass and her bow arm became sore and stiff but she pressed on, allowing herself to become lost in the notes.

 

Her mind wandered to standing in the dining hall of her parents home as she played for her extended family and their friends and colleagues during one of their yearly fundraisers, the last time she’d played this particular piece. It was one of the last times she remembered her parents smiling at one another.

 

The shrill, beeping ring of her cellphone shocked her from her reverie. She took a few moments to shake out her arms from their stiff holds before laying her violin to the side and answering her phone with trepidation.

 

“Hello, Fareeha.” She spoke, her words strained as she tried to hide the embarrassment she could feel pressing down on her.

 

“Hey so I was thinking I could cash in on that whole ‘we should do this again sometime’ thing today.” The words were rapid fire and Angela could imagine Fareeha laid back on her bed, feet kicked up against the wall, probably tugging at one of the frayed feathers in her braid. 

 

“Oh, um.” Angela said, the epitome of eloquence.

 

There was a ruffle of fabric on the other end of the line. “If you don’t want to or you’re busy I understand.”

 

“No, that sounds great!” She forced a bit of a smile into her words. “Your place or mine?” 

 

“I’ll be there in twenty.” Fareeha said, excitement nearly seeping through the earpiece before the call was ended. 

 

Angela flopped face first onto her couch, dread already pooling in her stomach. Surely Fareeha was on her way to kick her from the band. She was nice enough to do that in person. With a groan, she rolled from the couch and slumped her way to her room to spend the next few minutes making herself presentable.

 

By the time Fareeha knocked at her door, Angela was already on her third outfit of the day and was frantically smoothing down her bedhead as she sprinted to the entryway. When she pulled the door open, Fareeha was stood on the porch, helmet tucked under her arm and a smile on her face.

  
“I have a surprise.” She said without preamble as she handed the helmet to Angela.

 

The blonde stood in shock for a moment before finally stuttering. “You’re not here to fire me?” 

 

Fareeha had already turned to head back to her bike, but the softly mumbled words stopped her in her tracks. “No?” She turned to face the blonde, dark eyes critically scanning the woman’s face and taking note of the blotchy cheeks and slightly puffy eyes. “Angela… Why would you think that? Have I done something wrong?” A dark hand moved forward to brush an unruly lock of hair back into Angela’s ponytail.

 

“I just thought since yesterday, what happened… you know.” Angela’s fingers picked at the nylon strap on the helmet, her eyes intensely locked on the task.

 

Fareeha’s deep chuckle preceded the hand ruffling through blonde locks. “You’re fine.” She used her leverage to tilt Angela’s head, stooping a bit to grab her eyeline. “Is this what you’ve been worrying about?” At Angela’s small nod, Fareeha tutted and pulled the blonde into a sideways hug. “Well, you’re still firmly in the band, so you can stop freaking out. You ready for your surprise now?”

 

Angela smiled and stepped around Fareeha, tugging the door shut behind her before making her way to Fareeha’s bike. “Let’s go, then.”

 

~*~

 

They had to park in a lot a block away from their destination. It was an older, unassuming brick building with a walkup to a second floor entrance. If Angela tipped her head back, she could see the huge neon sign hanging on the five story building, but couldn’t make out the name.

 

“Laser Quest.” Fareeha offered as an explanation before tugging the door open and motioning Angela inside. 

 

The entryway opened into a large room with a tall reception desk at the far end. To the right of the desk was an open arcade and a small snack bar tucked in the back. Angela’s grin nearly split her face as she saw the DDR machines in the center of the game floor.

 

“Wanted to get stomped in public?” She grinned at the Egyptian, already cheekily backing toward the arcade. 

 

“No,” Fareeha said as she waved off the blonde’s antics as she walked to the main desk. “Not today at least.” The words were tossed over her shoulder before she addressed the young girl behind the counter. “Two for your next game, Hana.”

 

The brunette looked up from the handheld game she was blipping away on, her face lighting up in a smile. “Well if it isn’t Annihilation Amari. Been awhile since I’ve seen you around here. Usual name then?” Hana began typing away at the computer to add ‘Pharah’ to the roster. 

 

Behind the Egyptian, Angela spoke up. “Pharah? What’s that from?” 

 

Fareeha turned and leaned against the counter. “The first time I came here, Jesse told the guy my name should be Pharaoh. I’d just gotten my tattoo and he was still making fun of me. The kid couldn’t spell to save his life and now I’m stuck with a name based on a typo.”

 

The blonde giggled, her cheeks dusted pink. “Well I think it’s cute.” A small pout bloomed on Fareeha’s lips. “I mean... intimidating! Your enemies will cower at the name of Pharah.” She amended, grinning with Fareeha began to laugh.

 

“And the name for your arm candy?” Hana interrupted with a grin. Angela’s face bloomed red and Fareeha covered a cough as she turned back to the desk. 

 

“Oh, I’m not-” Angela began, flustered. “We’re just, um. You know…”

 

“Friends.” Fareeha finished for her, taking pity on her embarrassed state. “Put her down as Rahma.” As Hana typed in the name, Fareeha reached over to point at the screen. “There’s an H in there. What is it with you guys and spelling errors?” Fareeha groused playfully as the brunette fixed her mistake before her eyes locked on the cast wrapped around Fareeha’s wrist.

 

“You are  _ not _ playing with a broken wrist.” Hana said, already turning to the couple behind Angela and Fareeha.

 

Fareeha merely waved her off. “It’s basically healed, the cast comes off the week after next. Just let me sign the dang waiver so I can kick this one’s butt.” She reached over the counter to snatch the form from Hana’s hand before quickly scribbling her signature across the bottom. She turned to Angela with a grin. “Alright, you ready?”

 

~*~

 

The pair stumbled down the stairs before sluggishly making their way back to Fareeha’s bike. Angela was beaming despite the obvious exhaustion pulling at her tired limbs. She clutched a piece of paper and excited blue eyes raked over the words and numbers printed off. 

 

“So, maybe next time I could give you a few pointers?” Angela asked as she waved the scoresheet towards Fareeha.

 

“I saw it on the TV in there, you don’t need to rub it in my face.” She grumbled, blatantly ignoring the paper being swiped in front of her. A flash of bright pink caught her eye and she stopped Angela’s waving with a hand around the blonde’s wrist.

 

Above Fareeha’s name and score, Angela with thirty five shots to her own thirty one, was a doodled gremlin-like creature with the words “Get rekt” written in pink highlighter. Umber eyes narrowed at the drawing and circled scores. “Okay look-”   
  
“I think I’m going to frame it! Put it right between  _ Les Mis _ and  _ Chicago _ .” Angela had swiped the paper back and was smoothing it out, cheeky grin tossed Fareeha’s way.

 

“You just wait, Ziegler.” Fareeha puffed up, spinning to face Angela with a crunch of combat boot against asphalt, her casted hand raised between them and a smirk on her face. “Once this puppy’s off, you’re going down.” She gave an indignant sniff and tossed her head. “Then we’ll see who needs pointers.”

 

Angela simply gave her a pat on the shoulder with a mockingly sweet smile before she skipped the last few feet to Fareeha’s bike. “Sure thing,  _ Annihilation Amari. _ ” Fareeha chuckled and shook her head at the blonde’s antics before turning to follow. She’d just straddled her bike when her phone rang.

 

“Yeah?” After a moment, her eyes shot to Angela who was still standing at her side. “Yeah she’s with me, hang on I’ll put it on speaker.” She fumbled with her phone for a bit before holding it up between them.

 

A heavy sigh preceded Jesse’s gruff drawl. “Just got a call from Watchpoint…” A dull scratching could be heard, most likely his fingers digging through his stubble in a nervous habit. “They want us in Thursday to record a track. Says they’ve already got the paperwork drawn up.”

 

“But that’s not-” Angela began but Fareeha’s frustrated growl cut her off.

 

“Can ya just get back so we can talk about this together?” Jesse asked, desperation tinting his words.

 

Fareeha nodded and slammed her helmet over her head, jerking her chin to direct Angela to climb on behind her. “Be there in ten.” 

 

~*~

 

They stepped into Fareeha’s walkup and were promptly greeted with a pacing Jesse. Hanzo sat brooding on the couch, hands fisted in front of his mouth. As soon as the girls entered, Jesse was at their side.

 

“Jesse, breathe.” Fareeha said calmly, much more calmly than she felt. “Let’s all have a seat and talk about whatever this is.” She gave her hand a general wave towards Hanzo before heading to the kitchen. She glanced over her shoulder to make sure Hanzo was moving to the table before beckoning Angela over. “Can you get the teapot warming up?” She asked as she pulled a few tins of tea from the cabinet. If there was one thing her mother had instilled in Fareeha, it was the need of a good cup of tea in a stressful situation. 

 

Four mugs were arranged on the counter with everyone’s preferred blend in the diffusers and before long they were steeping. Angela and Fareeha placed the cups in front of the boys and sat but no one spoke for a few moments.

 

Fareeha had just taken a sip of her hibiscus blend when Hanzo spoke, his words gruff and to the point. “We either take the opportunity presented to us now or we wait for another chance.” His eyes shot to Jesse, who seemed to be hiding behind his cowboy themed mug, with a glare that spoke of a heated argument the girls had missed.

 

Jesse sighed and dropped his mug to the table. “We got Angela, so we record their dang song and move on. What’s the big deal?”

 

“Have they sent you a copy of the papers they want us to sign? Has Gabe looked at them?” Fareeha asked, brows knitted over her cup. 

 

“Yeah and he says it’s all legit.” Jesse said, his hands flailing out and the exasperation in his voice hinting to this not being the first time he’d made this argument. “They want us to record a song, they’d get the rights to it with a bit of kickback to us, but it’s the publicity we want. Get our name out there.” He turned pleadingly to the Egyptian. “We’d be on the radio, Ree.”

 

“You mean  _ we _ ,” Hanzo gestured to the three of them and purposefully excluded Fareeha. “Would be on the radio.”

 

Umber eyes darted between the two men and suddenly the tension Fareeha had felt between the two came to light.

 

“Yeah but just ‘til Ree heals up and then she’d be right back in.”

 

“But she wouldn’t be on your first recording.” Angela finally spoke, her finger plunging her diffuser into her lukewarm tea, eyes staring blankly at the motion.

 

Jesse sighed. “Yeah but-”

 

“I will not do that to her.” Blue eyes darted up to meet Jesse’s hazel. “ _ She _ needs to play on your first recording, not someone who landed in your lap because of a cruel twist of fate.” Fareeha and Hanzo moved as if to speak, to disagree with Angela’s statement about her status to the band, but the staring contest continued, long and drawn out until the tension in the room became palpable. Jesse finally broke it with a grumble and dug out his phone. His thumb flew over the buttons before he sat it on the table between them, the dial tone ringing over the speaker.

 

After a few rings, a gravely voice answered. “So, did you decide?”

 

Jesse leaned forward, forehead cradled against his fist. “Gabe, we hit a snag. Angela doesn’t want to record, says it should be Fareeha’s place.” The tinny sigh over the speaker nearly drowned out Angela’s huffed ‘But it  _ is _ .’

 

“I’ll talk it over with the rep, but he ain’t gonna like it.” And the call ended. The four sighed, looks of worry and frustrated stubbornness passing between them.

 

~*~

 

Hanzo knocked quietly on Fareeha’s door before pushing it open. He chuckled at her missing doorknob, perhaps the thing had finally annoyed her enough for her to remove it. Fareeha sat on her bed cross-legged, a notebook on her knee. He sat at the foot of the bed, taking care not to jostle her too much as she struggled to write with her cast. Silence stretched between them before Fareeha finally looked up. 

 

“Gabe called back.” Hanzo started without preamble. “If Angela won’t record and you can’t, they’ll hire a bassist for the track.” He locked eyes with her despite her trying to stay focused on her notebook. “They’ll be contracted.” 

 

Fareeha stilled as the words sank in and with a snap of her arm, her pen was thrown across the room. After a few calming breaths, she spoke. “I have to talk Angela into doing it.”

 

Hanzo nodded with a sigh. “That would be our only option. I’ve tried to explain to Jesse that we should wait, that more opportunities are out there but he’s…”   
  
“Jesse.” Fareeha finished, eyes glaring into the far wall. If even Hanzo couldn’t get through to the man, what hope did she have? Her bond with the singer was strong, familial even, but paled in comparison to the relationship he had with the drummer. She couldn’t ask Hanzo to push further. It wasn’t fair to him as they both knew how Jesse became when he was challenged. He’d close off before snapping with harsh words. No, the only way they would get away from a contracted stranger was for her to convince Angela to record.

 

She sighed and pushed her hand through her hair, eyes darting around the room for a moment before landing on her leather jacket tossed over her closet door. “I need to clear my head, did Gabe tell you when they wanted an answer?” 

 

“Soon, but no timeframe.” 

 

She nodded, stood and made her way to her closet, pulling out various articles of clothing. “I’m going for a drink.”

 

~*~

 

The club was chilly, its AC cranked up to ward off the body heat from the mass of writhing dancers in the back dancehall, so Fareeha remained snuggled in her leather jacket. She sat at the bar, eyes lazily drifting over the wall of bottles and taps as she nursed her tumbler of Jack. Behind her, the drag show continued on and the shrill whistles and catcalls pierced her skull and caused her to tuck further against the polished wood and down yet more alcohol. She tried to focus on the pounding bass from the dancehall instead of the pop music being lip synced to on the stage behind her.

 

Her phone buzzed in her pocket and she pulled it to the bar with a groan. No doubt it’d be Jesse worried about her still ‘clearing her head.’ She focused blurry eyes on the screen and saw Angela’s name and her stomach fell to her toes. Fareeha wasn’t ready to deal with her just yet. She knew it’d be a heated argument, Fareeha fully guilting Angela into playing, saying whatever needed to be said to ensure the blonde was in the Watchpoint studio and not some random bassist for hire. She snapped her phone closed before flagging down the bartender for a refill.

 

A tumbler of Jack and two shots later, her phone buzzed once more only this time Angela had sent a quick text.

 

**10:47pm - Angela:** Jesse called to ask if you were with me. Please let me know if you’re okay.

 

Fareeha growled and began the arduous task of typing out a response, her fingers stiff and sluggish.

 

**10:49pm - Fareeha:** im find alk good b bacl sooo

 

She sent the text without so much as a second glance, her mind already focused on the blonde. The way her smile lights up her entire face, how she dips her head to the side during a giggle as if embarrassed at the sound. The crinkle at the top of her nose when Fareeha says a dumb pun. 

 

She heaved a sigh and tossed back the last of her drink. It was always Angela. Ever since she met her, the blonde had never left Fareeha’s mind. Ever since she saw her that night in the Loun-

 

Fareeha froze, eyes locked on the melting ice cubes in her glass. _It was always Angela._ Her fault Fareeha was in the cast, her fault she couldn’t play, _her_ _fault_ that Jesse and Hanzo were fighting and _her damn fault_ that they were going to have to have a stranger on their first recording.

 

The ice in her glass shifted and she blinked, surprised to feel a tear running down her cheek. She scrubbed it away harshly, eyes darting around to see if anyone noticed her predicament. It was then her phone rang, Angela’s name at the top of the screen. With a vile emotion twisting her gut, she flipped the phone open and answered with a gruff ‘what.’

 

“Fareeha, I’m worried, are you okay?” The angelic voice cut through Fareeha, shaking apart the gripping hatred spiraling within her, but still the thoughts circled. Her fault, her fault, her  _ fault. _

 

“I’m fine, mom.” She spat, some sadistic part of her taking pleasure in Angela’s gasp of shock. “Tell Jesse he can call off the dogs; I’ll be home soon.”

 

She was just about to pull the phone from her ear when Angela’s next words rang through the earpiece. “Where are you.” She demanded. Fareeha scoffed but Angela continued. “I’m coming to get you. This isn’t you and you need someone there for you.”

 

The worry was clear in Angela’s tone and it broke Fareeha. How dare she blame this caring woman for anything? How dare she even entertain the idea that any of the last two months were Angela’s fault? She shuddered out a sobbed “I’m at Play.” before hanging up and dropping her head into her hand.

 

She flagged down the bartender one last time to settle her tab, sniffing and wiping her eyes all the while. 

 

She let herself be lost to the thudding EDM from the back dancehall, fingers picking at the feathers in her braid. The pale hand wrapping over her shoulder startled her and she looked up into deep blue eyes. Her lips quirked into a lopsided grin and she stood, arm wrapping around the blonde’s waist as she led Fareeha from the club. 

 

~*~

 

Fareeha’s eye cracked open, the other glued shut with crust. Her mouth felt like she’d been chewing ashes all night and the morning light was doing a number on her splitting headache. She pulled the blanket up to hide from the sun when she felt movement next to her. Both eyes flew open to lock on the pale arm belted over her waist and she followed the naked limb up to the head of fluffy blonde hair tucked against her chest. Her  _ bare _ chest.

 

Despair joined the alcohol curdling in her stomach as she jerked away from the blonde. The blonde who, with the clarity of morning and lack of drunken haze, had hair much darker than the woman Fareeha believed her to be. 

 

Her frantic backpedaling shook the woman awake and the arm around Fareeha’s waist tightened, a sleepy coo coming from the stranger as she smiled up at Fareeha. 

 

“Get out.” Fareeha commanded as she tried to pull herself to her feet, the residual stickiness between her thighs causing the nausea to swell up faster than her hangover. The blonde merely sat up, blinking owlishly at Fareeha as she darted to her closet for a shirt. “One of the boys will call you a taxi. Get the hell out.” 

 

Without looking back at the woman, Fareeha stumbled from her room to the bathroom. She barely latched the door behind her before she fell to her knees in front of the toilet. Tears and snot smudged her face and she lay her forehead on crossed arms as she sobbed into the toilet bowl. A few hiccupped gasps later and she let herself be sick, regret digging into her chest as she heaved.


	7. It Ain't my Fault

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So very sorry for the long wait. Life happened and it made writing this a bit difficult. I totally did NOT mean to leave this on such a cliffhanger, please forgive me!
> 
> Huge thank you to kinaesthetic for helping make this readable.

Fareeha dropped onto her bed with a pained growl, the motion sending blood rushing to her already pounding head. With a pitiful mewl she rolled to the side and curled up, eyes drifting shut as another wave of nausea washed over her. The vibrating buzz against her ribs didn’t help.

 

She sluggishly pulled her phone free and checked the screen. A few missed texts and three missed calls. She grumbled and checked her notifications.

 

**1:13am - Angela** : <Missed Call>

 

**1:18am - Angela** :  _ I’m here, where are you? _

 

**1:36am - Angela** : <Missed Call>

 

**1:38am - Angela** :  _ I’ll be waiting outside, come on out and I’ll get you home, okay? _

 

**1:51am - Hanzo** : <Missed Call>

 

**1:54am - Hanzo** :  _ Angela just called worried sick, where are you? _

 

**1:59am - Angela** :  _ I’m starting to get worried, please let me know you’re alright… _

 

She dropped the phone with a grumble and buried her face in the pillow, trying desperately to keep flashes of dark blonde hair and tanned skin from her mind. An unusual perfume was in her sheets and she bit back a sob before breathing through her mouth to avoid the smell of the woman. When even that didn’t keep the memories at bay, she rolled to the edge of the bed and sat up, intent to flee her room completely. Hanzo stood in the door, a disappointed look on his face.

 

“We need to talk.” His arms were crossed and his face stern. His words were little more than a whisper but Fareeha shrank back as if he’d yelled. “Sometime this week would be nice.” He added when she made no indication that she’d even heard him.

 

“Shit, Hanzo, alright.” She groused as her eyes darted to her pillow, grimace crinkling her eyes as she thought of being near the woman’s scent any longer. “Just… not here alright?”

 

Hanzo nodded knowingly before stepping further into her room. He closed the door with solemn sigh. “Your office?” He asked, already heading toward the foot of the bed. Fareeha nodded and stood, feet unsteady as she moved to the end of the bed as well. They both sank to the floor, backs against the foot of the bed and hidden from the doorway should Jesse come looking. It was their go-to place for serious discussions or simple gossip.

 

“I messed up.” Fareeha spoke into the silence. She ran her hand through her hair, wincing as she snagged a knot.

 

“Royally.” Hanzo added as he nodded. The city noise filled the gap in their conversation and Hanzo pulled his knees up, tossing his arms over them. “Did you at least let her know you were home?”   
  
Fareeha scoffed. “And tell her what?” She rubbed her eye forcefully, grimacing at the caked eye makeup and sleep grit. “Hey Angela! So, I got  _ so _ fucked up at the bar last night that I thought some random woman was you and since, you know, I’m just  _ so _ infatuated with you, I brought her home and plowed her into the mattress all night. But don’t worry, as soon as I realized she wasn’t you, I kicked her out immediately!” Her rant ended and her saccharine smile gave way to a pained grimace as she once again remembered the rollercoaster that was waking up to a strange woman.

 

Hanzo turned slightly toward her, brows knit in concentration. “That sounds like a good start.”   
  
“Are you crazy? Am I still asleep?” She gave her arm a pinch. “Is this some alcohol poisoning induced hallucination? How in the _ hell  _ am I supposed to tell her that?”

 

“It’s usually done by using your mouth to form sounds in which both parties can understand meaning.” He chuckled as he dodged Fareeha’s fist. “To be serious here, you do need to talk to her. At least tell her that you’re okay.” Fareeha made to speak but Hanzo stopped her. “Even if you don’t feel comfortable telling her everything just yet, you should not lie to her.”

 

“What if I can’t ever tell her? What would she think of me if I told her that I slept with some stranger because they looked enough like her?” Fareeha dropped her head to her knees as she pulled them to her chest, arms belted around her legs. A heavy hand fell on her shoulders and gave a calming squeeze.

 

“If you feel about her the way I think you do, you’ll need to tell her.” He sighed, hand giving her tense shoulders a rub. “You can’t build anything on distrust and half truths. You either suck this up,” He gestured in her general direction. “And face her the best you can until you  _ can _ tell her or you walk.”   
  
Fareeha scoffed and turned to glare at him, forehead still planted on a knee. “Just like that?” She asked through a snarl, already fed up with Hanzo’s hypocrisy. “Says the man who’s been pining after his childhood best friend for years but doesn’t have the balls to take his own advice?” The words were flowing now, Fareeha couldn’t stop them despite the pained look taking over Hanzo’s face. “Talk about half truths, ha! How about you tell Jesse the entire truth? How you turned down a scholarship to Austin Peay so you could keep following him like a lost pup-”

 

“Stop.” The command was quiet but hit Fareeha in the gut like a sucker punch. Her hand flew to her mouth, wide eyes begging forgiveness from her friend. Hanzo took a deep breath and let it out slowly, thumb picking at a stray thread on his jeans. “We both know that Jesse only has eyes for the women that flock to him after shows. Easy, no commitment.”   
  
“Hanzo, you know he cares for you.”   
  
His finger dug into a worn bit of denim, tearing the fabric. “ _ Care. _ ” He spat the word like an expletive. Fareeha leaned back against the bed, fingers pinching the bridge of her nose. She opened her mouth to speak, but Hanzo continued with a sigh. “Look, as much as I would love to walk out there and tell him how I feel, doing so would destroy us. He would either pull away and the band would fall apart or he would feel the same and the band would fall apart.”   
  
“And telling Angela how I feel… won’t.” She said, incredulous tone morphing the question.    
  
“She’s just here for the time being right? As soon as that thing’s off and you’re back to normal, you two can be a thing.” His head fell back against the mattress, eyes tracing patterns in the popcorn ceiling. “Without the fear of band drama and homophobic reporters,” His voice picked up a scarily accurate Southern accent. “And Jimbob down the street yellin’ ‘bout them girly boys flauntin’ their sin all over God’s green Earth.”

 

Fareeha tried to contain her laughter but failed, the sound erupting in a sharp snort. “Okay, you’ve been around Jesse a bit too much, that was spot on.” 

 

Hanzo laughed a bit himself before dropping a hand to her knee. “The point is, you need to talk to her.” He stood and made for the door. “Also, handle Jesse, he’s losing his mind.” And with that he was gone.

 

**~*~**

 

Fareeha entered the room to Jesse slumped over the dining table, various sheets of paper scattered about the surface. She dropped into the nearest chair with a flair of drama and when he didn’t move, she gave him a sharp poke to the shoulder. With a shout, his head shot up, complete with paper stuck to his cheek. “Damnit Fareeha, what? Yer fingers are like needles.”

 

“I was told you’re losing it, but apparently ‘ _ it’ _ is any semblance of a sleep schedule.” She quipped as she started gathering the papers scattered about. “What is all of this anyway?” 

 

Jesse gave his face a fierce rub before helping her straighten the table. “Contracts, got a stack of CDs around here somewhere with samples and these uh, resume things.” He pointed to a stack of manila folders off to the side.

 

Fareeha scratched her cheek. “Yeah about that, any word from Gabe on a time frame?” When Jesse simply shook his head, Fareeha shot to her feet, headed to the kitchen for a cup of coffee. “Right, so stall. Don’t call anyone yet. Let me talk to Angela first. I can-”   
  
“What, tell her why I got jerked outta a sick dream to cart some bar floozy home at six this morning?”

 

Fareeha glared at the coffee pot clenched in her hand before slamming it back onto its base. “I’m going to convince her to record, so I’d say that’s not in my best interest to bring up.”

 

**~*~**

 

Angela paced. It seemed since she’d finally given up and come home, her main mission was to wear a hole in the floor waiting on her phone to ring. She’d gotten a short text from Hanzo early this morning with a simple ‘she’s home’ but hadn’t heard anything more. She glanced at the clock hanging in her den and grumbled. Half past one, surely she’d-

 

Her phone chirped and she dove for it, not checking the faceplate before snapping it open and to her ear. “Yes?” She asked, panic stealing a bit of her breath.

  
There was a pause on the other end followed by a small sigh. “Hey Angela.”   
  
Angela’s breath poured from her lips and her knees gave out, sinking to the couch in relief, hand carding through her bangs. “Fareeha, hey. How- I mean, are you okay?” She growled, hand tugging at her ponytail. “Of course you’re not okay, you probably have the hangover from Hell. Can I do anything for you?” Fareeha quietly chuckled and Angela could swear she heard the smacking of skin. “Fareeha Amari, did you just  _ facepalm _ me?”

 

“No…?” Another chuckle. “But yeah, I’m not great but I’m okay.” Silence fell between them and Angela pulled her phone away to check if the call was still connected, nearly missing the first of Fareeha’s next words. “I do need to apologize. I got really messed up and someone got me a cab. I don’t even remember coming home otherwise I would have texted you.”   
  
Angela chewed her lip and dropped backward into the couch cushions, willing herself to ignore the twist in her chest as she thought of Fareeha being that far gone. “All that matters is that you got home okay.”

 

“...Yeah.” 

 

A car alarm began to wail outside.

 

Fareeha cleared her throat.

 

Angela fidgeted.   
  
“So is there anything I can do?” Angela asked after the awkward lull. 

 

Fareeha’s line distorted for a moment as if she were scuffing against her phone. “If you’d want to give me a ride to the clinic tomorrow at eleven, that’d be great. The doctor’s not too excited to give me the go-ahead on riding the bike once the cast is off.”   
  
“Yeah, sure! I can pick you up.” And before her mental filters kicked in, she continued. “If you’ll actually answer your phone.”

 

There was a heavy sigh on the other end of the line. “Yeah. Yeah I deserved that.” An intake of breath before a frustrated huff. “I’ll be waiting, thanks Angela.”

 

**~*~  
**   


“It feels squishy.” Fareeha groused as she poked the discolored skin of her forearm, nail scratching over the patterns left by the plaster. From her place in the driver’s seat, Angela laughed. She shot a dark glare at the blonde before mumbling about rude women.

 

Angela shot a glance to Fareeha before slowing to a stop at a red light. “Well, stop poking it, silly. It’s not going to feel normal for a while.” They sat for a moment more before traffic had moved enough for them to turn onto the next street, soft music filling the gap between them. “Do you want me to pick up for your therapy? I don’t mind taking you.” 

 

Fareeha sat silently as she flexed her fingers and slowly rolled her wrist. Her face contorted with pain and concentration as she stretched her newly released limb. “Yeah su-”   
  
“You probably want to keep it in the brace until the doctors give you the greenlight.” Angela said, fingernail picking at a loose string on the leather wrapped steering wheel. 

 

At her side, Fareeha huffed and bent down to retrieve the brace from the bag in the floorboard. She struggled with the straps for a few moments before a pale hand joined her own with a quiet ‘let me.’ Dark eyes glared at the intruding hand before Fareeha jerked away. “I can do it fine on my own, thanks.” She gave a firm tug to the velcro strap and tried her best to hide the resulting wince of pain as the brace cinched tight.

 

Angela sighed, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. Her eyes flicked over to the glaring Egyptian as she stared out the window then down to the clenching hand against the seat. With a sigh, Angela pulled alongside the curb at the walk-up and put it into park. “I’m only trying to help you, Fare-”   
  
“Yep, thanks.” And Fareeha was out the door and into the market, leaving a concerned Angela behind.

 

**~*~**

 

“It seems like something happened that she’s trying to hide from you.” Came the tinny voice as Angela paced her kitchen, phone pressed to her ear and her other hand stuffed in her hair, worrying the strands between jittery fingers. “Not necessarily in a bad way,” he tacked on at the end, “Perhaps she received some news that she’s trying to protect you from.”

 

“But what does she feel she needs to hide? We’ve grown so close and told each other everything…” She trailed off as her thoughts flitted between conversations held in Fareeha’s dim bedroom, coffee shops and over leftover pizza. Stories and confessions of rage at a mother that was taken too soon and a mother that was too overbearing. A dark hand clutched around dog tags as pale fingers swiped away tears from a tattooed cheek.

 

“...the bar then?” Genji’s words slowly creeped into her thoughts and she roughly shook her head and scrubbed a hand over her eyes.

 

She gave a heavy sigh and a hearty sniff. “Right, the bar. She’s probably still nursing a hangover, right?”   
  
Genji chuckled. “If you say so, Angela.” A sigh. “Just talk to her. If you’re as close as you say, it should be easy, no?”

 

“Thanks, Genji.” She said through a watery smile, tears already springing up again though they were wiped away quickly. “Okay, so enough about me!” She dropped to the couch with her feet tucked beneath her and cleared her throat, determined to ignore the bad feeling that was swirling in her stomach. “How was your date?” She asked in a sing-song voice and smiled as Genji explained the date his mother had sent him on and the awkward conversations it involved.

 

**~*~**

 

Fareeha sat on the threadbare couch, elbows on her knees and head hung between her shoulders. Her hands twiddled with a cigarette lighter and the ‘ftwip-clink’ of it being lit and slammed shut against her palm was the only sound to fill the room. Jesse entered the living room, arms laden with grocery bags, and paused to take in the moody bassist. Fareeha stopped her twiddling, her dark eyes gazing at the flame dancing above the wind cover. 

 

“Bad day?” He gruffed out before dropping the bags on the table. His only answer was a sharp clink as the lighter was slammed shut for the final time. He sighed and started to put away the cold items from his shopping. “And y’better refill that. The last time ya went pyro on us, y’left me with an empty lighter.”

 

Fareeha glared at Jesse as he puttered around the kitchen. Hanzo’s words from earlier filtered through her grumpy haze. He was stuck, left to pine in silence for a man who he couldn’t risk openly loving. It wasn’t fair and too much was riding on Jesse being a straight-laced, womanizing front man for Hanzo to throw a wrench into all of their hard work. Fareeha scoffed to herself, fingers fiddling with the lighter once more. Even though Hanzo deserved so much more than his muted devotion, here he was encouraging Fareeha to pursue Angela instead.

 

And she had screwed everything up.

 

Again.

 

**~*~**

 

The knock at the door was nearly masked by rolling thunder as a storm crashed its way through Nashville, a herald of the oncoming finicky autumn weather. Angela pulled herself from her dining table and gave the spread of books and papers a quick tidy before hurrying to the door. She glanced through the peephole and caught a flash of soaked black hair and drowned feathers;she jerked the door open without a second thought.   
  
“Fareeha!” She gasped, hands already flying forward to tug the dripping woman inside. The Egyptian didn’t budge from her place on the front porch aside from full body shivers. Dark eyes stared forward, her brow knit and face pinched as if in pain. “Let me get you a towel, at least.” Angela persuaded and tried to bring her inside once more. Frigid fingers grasped Angela’s and the blonde looked up, thoughts as frozen as the hand that gripped her.

 

Fareeha’s mouth moved slowly, teeth chattering, pleading eyes locked on Angela’s, before she finally found her voice. “I’m sorry. Ange, I’m so sorry.” 

 

Dread and something darker curled in her stomach, but Angela simply straightened and placed a hand on the woman’s shoulder, fingers sweeping over a soaked cheek. “Fareeha, come inside so you can get dry and warm. We’ll talk once I know you’re not going to fall over from hypothermia.” She lead Fareeha inside and straight to her bedroom. She gestured to the en suite bathroom before heading to her closet to begin rummaging for a spare set of clothes that would fit the larger woman. Once she’d found some pajamas, she headed back to the now closed bathroom door. With a soft knock, she announced her presence. “I have a change of clothes for you, I’ll throw yours in the dryer when you’re done.” Her words were gentle and disarming and were answered with a quiet ‘okay, thanks.’ She grinned sadly at the white wood before laying the pile of clothes on the floor and leaving for the den.

 

She’d just finished making two steaming mugs of tea when Fareeha joined her on the plush couch. With a smile, Angela handed the large mug to the still shivering woman and stood. She returned a moment later with a fleece blanket and draped it over Fareeha’s shoulders with a small smile. She sat sideways on the couch, facing Fareeha with her feet tucked beneath her and her mug cradled in her lap. Angela took a small sip and squared her shoulders, ready for the coming conversation.

  
“Whenever you’re ready, Fareeha.” She said gently, voice quiet. “Take whatever time you need.”

 

Fareeha nodded despondently, fingers beginning to sting as the hot ceramic seeped away the frigid chill. Her gaze flitted over everything in the room except the blonde before her, mouth working silently as she tried to find the words to start. She swallowed thickly and took a shaky breath. “I’m a terrible person.”

 

Angela’s brows knit in confusion but kept her silence, determined to let Fareeha say what she needed at her own pace.

 

Dark fingers dug into fleece. “Ever since this recording bullshit I’ve been angry, frustrated. I’ve  _ hated _ so much that I have no business being mad at.” She took a steadying breath, eyes pointedly locked on the blanket tail curled in her lap. “The night at the bar, I was so… resentful. Of everything.” A small sniffle, fingers clenched around the mug in her lap. “I was messed up, my thinking was messed up, Angela I-” Trembling fingers swiped at a stray tear. “I blamed you. I rationalized that everything was your fault and while it gave me a place to focus my anger, it made me feel so disgusted with myself. How could I  _ ever  _ blame someone as selfless and caring as you. It was a dark cycle that kept ending at another drink, another shot, something  _ anything _ to drive off the dark voice chanting that it was your fault.”

 

Angela’s fingers clenched against her thigh as she warred with herself to step in and comfort the woman breaking before her or allow her to voice her thoughts. At Fareeha’s broken sob, pale fingers shot forward and curled around Fareeha’s, giving a comforting squeeze.

 

With a watery breath, Fareeha returned the gesture, eyes finally meeting Angela’s. “So I’m sorry. I’m so sorry that I ever blamed you. I couldn’t accept that it was my own actions that’d put us where we are. I didn’t want to be the one to blame for Jesse missing out on his dream. It was easier to put you in that position. It was unfair and I’ve treated you like garbage since.”   
  
Sensing her opening, Angela broke her silence. “You’ve treated me like someone who was hurting, Fareeha. And while I didn’t know the extent of it or what it stemmed from, I knew it wasn’t  _ you _ . By no means am I excusing how you acted or why you did it, but I understand.”

 

This only caused Fareeha to sniffle more as she tried to keep the tears at bay. “I don’t deserve it.” A clap of thunder. “I don’t deserve  _ you. _ ”

 

“Everyone deserves someone, Fareeha. You are no different. You’re selfless, just and so full of life. You tackle your dreams head on and that’s incredibly inspiring.” She squeezed Fareeha’s hand once more, eyes trying to catch the Egyptian’s as she tried to avoid searching blues. The silence stretched between them, filled only with quiet sniffs and the storm outside. “Was there something else, Fareeha?”

 

The bassist cringed and curled slightly in on herself as if trying to soak every bit of heat from her cooling mug of untouched tea. “I really fucked up. The night at the bar, I was so angry and so drunk and then you called and I was a jerk to you but you still cared and that made me hate  _ myself _ so much because–,” 

 

Angela’s thumb traced over her knuckles and the blonde whispered a gentle command to breathe.

 

Everything froze as Fareeha steeled her nerves, dark eyes flashing up to lock with Angela’s. “I brought someone home.” The gravity of her words fell over the pair like a weighted blanket, suffocating and smothering. “I wish I could explain why, but I don’t even know myself. That’s not  _ me. _ I don’t do that.”

 

Angela took a deep breath, eyes falling closed as she wiped away a tear that slipped past her own lashes, heart clenching in her chest. She swallowed down her own emotions; Fareeha knew nothing of them and adding Angela’s own heartbreak to the situation would help no one. With a determined set to her shoulders, she placed her mug on the floor and rolled forward to her knees, hands braced on either side of Fareeha’s jaw. Her thumbs chased away any lingering wetness and newly formed tears as she brought her forehead to rest on Fareeha’s. Amid the whispered shushes and soft passes of fingers, she found her voice. “You made a mistake, yes? Learn from it and press on.” Her hands tipped Fareeha’s face up and their eyes locked. Angela backed away a bit, eyes remaining glued to brown. “You are not your mistakes. You’re what you  _ make _ of them. You cannot keep blaming yourself, hating yourself.”   
  
Fareeha huffed, eyes drifting shut as she subtly nuzzled into Angela’s palm. “How are you so  _ good _ ?”

 

Angela gave a small laugh and tugged Fareeha into a hug, chin hooked over the woman’s shoulder. “Because I’ve learned and grown from my own mistakes, just like you will. You’re strong, Fareeha, but if you ever need someone to be strong with you, I’ll be here.”

 

Trembling arms came up to wrap around Angela’s shoulders, hands desperately gripping at the woman’s blouse as Fareeha finally broke. She buried her face in Angela’s neck, nearly muffling the plaintive, ‘Forgive me.”

 

Angela’s hand moved to cradle the back of Fareeha’s head as the other rubbed over her back and she gently rocked the sobbing woman before answering her. 

 

“I’d forgiven you already.”


	8. Stay a Little Longer

Angela entered the apartment with a stack of bakery boxes in her arms, her trapper hat pulled down to nearly her eyes to fight off the brisk chill rushing its way through the south. She kicked the door shut behind her before making her way to the table. Hanzo stood at the kitchen counter, eyes blearily locked on the coffee pot that was not nearly brewing fast enough. He glanced at the blonde with a hopeful expression and she smiled but shook her head.    
  
“Nope, no coffee. Just breakfast pastries.” She answered his silent question as she sat the boxes down before tugging off her hat, coat and scarf. Hanzo merely grunted in response and returned to his glaring.

 

“Those’re either ‘I’ve got good news and I’ll record’ goodies or ‘Sorry, you’re shit outta luck’ goodies.” Jesse dropped into the chair nearest the boxes and began to dig through them, hopeful for anything cinnamon.

 

Angela laughed as she snagged a croissant. “Is Fareeha awake? I’d rather everyone be here when I tell you which they are.”

 

Jesse shrugged but Hanzo spoke as he finally poured himself a cup of coffee. “I heard her up earlier but she might have went back to sleep.” He sat at the table and dug around for his favorite as Angela nodded. She wrapped the croissant in a bit of bakery paper and made for Fareeha’s bedroom.

 

The woman didn’t respond at the gentle knocks so Angela cracked the door. Fareeha lay with her back facing the doorway, curled up on top of her blankets. “Go away, Jesse.”

 

“Sorry to disappoint,” Angela began quietly, wincing slightly as Fareeha’s back stiffened. “I brought breakfast, would you join us at the table?” Fareeha curled up a bit more and took a breath but Angela cut her off. “Please?” Her fingers gripped at the doorframe before she backed away. “It’d mean a lot, but if you’d rather stay in here, I brought you this.” Angela placed the croissant on the tub next to Fareeha’s bed and she was gone. 

 

Angela joined the men at the table, dropping into a chair between them. It wasn’t long before the crinkling of bakery paper announced Fareeha’s entrance and the woman slouched into the remaining chair. She grunted softly before tearing the corner from her croissant and stuffing it into her mouth. 

 

“Okay, well…” Angela started once Fareeha made no move to contribute anything more, her own fingers pushing around a stray bit of walnut on the table. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking and I’ve made a final decision about the recording session.” 

 

Fareea froze, bit of pastry halfway to her mouth, and Jesse stiffened. “And?” He asked.

 

Angela took a deep breath to steady herself. “Fareeha has every right to be on your debut tracks. It’s not fair for me or  _ especially _ a stranger to be in her place.” She placed a gentle hand on Fareeha’s recently uncasted wrist and gave her a soft smile. “But since we’re not quite there yet, I’ll record. But!” She tacked on quickly when Jesse sucked in a breath to cheer. “As soon as she’s able, the tracks will be recorded again with her playing and mine will be destroyed.” She looked to Jesse and Hanzo. “Is that something you can arrange with Gabe?”

 

Jesse leaned back in his chair, fingers stuffed into his hair as he blew out a breath before pulling an incredulous expression. “I’ll give him a call, but it’ll have to be good enough. This is great, Angela, thank you.”

 

The blonde nodded and looked to Fareeha, leaning closer and speaking softly. “Does that work, Fareeha?”   
  
Dark eyes shot up to meet Angela’s. “I can’t…” She began fiddling with her croissant again. “I don’t know how to thank you.” 

 

With a soft giggle, Angela bumped shoulders with Fareeha. “Just get better so my terrible playing can be replaced with something good, that’s how.”

 

**~*~**

 

Another shirt flew from Angela’s closet along with a frustrated growl. “What do you even wear to these things?” She groused as she tossed away another blouse, adding to the growing pile on the floor.

 

Fareeha sat on the blonde’s bed cross legged, distracted fingers plucking at the violin that lay balanced in her lap. She watched Angela’s closet massacre with a grin. “Usually clothing, Angela.” She smirked when the grumbles increased in volume, allowing Fareeha to make out the tail end of Angela’s tirade.

 

“That’s easy for you to say Ms. I-look-great-in-a-potato-sack.” Angela complained. Fareeha scoffed and looked down at her dark jeans and flannel button up, shrugging noncommittally.

 

With a sigh, Angela’s violin was placed back in its case and Fareeha made her way to the closet door. “Okay fine, let me see what you have.” She stopped in the doorway of the walk-in closet and leaned against the frame, arms crossed as she looked over the clothes that had survived Angela’s attack. “What about that?” She asked, pointing to a simple cream blouse. “That with that black skirt and leggings number you wore that first night at the Mercy?”

 

The words were out before Fareeha had filtered them and Angela froze before slowly turning. “You remember what I was wearing?” The question was quiet but left Fareeha blushing as if the blonde had screamed it from her balcony.

 

Fareeha quickly started to scramble for an answer, her fingers idly scratching at the back of her neck as she looked anywhere but the wide blue eyes before her. “I mean… Yes?” She brushed past the blonde to grab the shirt in question. “Not in a weird way.” She passed the shirt to Angela who was still frozen in the middle of the closet. “I’m um,” Fareeha backpedaled away, still blushing furiously. “I’m gonna go check on Jesse. Leave it to him to wear something stupid to our first big interview. Like chaps or something.”

 

And with that, the bassist was gone, leaving Angela stood in her closet with a blouse in her hand, blush on her cheeks and confusion on her brow.

 

**~*~**

 

The band filed into the main office of Nashville Scene, their stoic faces a mask for the bubbling excitement tracing through every vein. During the ride over, Fareeha had gushed about the opportunity of being featured on the newsletter’s website and dropped trivia tidbits about the other previous features and where they were now. 

 

They were met at the door by a perky brunette in a leather trimmed suit, hand already extended toward Jesse. “Hi, I’m Aubry! Pleasure you meet you!” She practically gushed.

 

Fareeha and Hanzo shared a look behind the singer’s back as he crooned pleasantries at the woman before pasting on identical smiles and returning the woman’s gesture. Angela stepped up to give the woman a genuine greeting, ignoring the other two’s antics. 

 

“So we’ll set up in the lounge just down the hall, so if y’all will follow me?” She bounced away, leading them to a heavy wooden door at the end of the hall. She held the door open and ushered them inside the space. “Feel free to sit wherever you’re comfortable.”

 

The group stepped into the cozy looking lounge. A couch sat under a large window on the far wall with a loveseat and two armchairs surrounding a glass top coffee table. A smattering of throw pillows were dotted around the furniture, giving the place more of a living room vibe than that of an office space.   
  
Fareeha made a beeline toward the overstuffed armchair in the corner and made herself comfortable, but fought the urge to tuck her feet beneath her as was her norm. Jesse and Hanzo claimed the large couch leaving Angela with a loveseat to herself. Aubry gathered a tray of water glasses and sat it on the low table between them before joining Angela.

 

The brunette clapped her hands and smiled. “Alright, so let’s just jump right into it. Think of this like a conversation instead of an interview, so don’t worry about saying the wrong thing. We’re very laid back here so just be yourselves.” She readjusted a small notebook on her knee. 

 

“Well, first off ma’am, I’d like to thank you for havin’ us.” Jesse said through a thousand watt smile. “It really is an honor to be here.”

 

This time when Aubry smiled, it was more genuine. “It’s an honor to be the one here with you today, so really the pleasure is mine. But I’m sure you guys have a lot of things going for you right now, so I’ll try to be brief. After all, you’ve just been picked up by a local recording company, right?”

 

Jesse ducked his head with a grin. “Well, not quite yet. We’re still working out a few kinks.” He gestured vaguely toward Fareeha. The bassist gave a small wave with her braced hand.

 

Aubry’s cheeks tinted a rosy pink as she fumbled over her notes for a moment, slightly embarrassed by her misstep. “Right! Well I’m sure any recording company will be fighting over the Deadlock Gang pretty soon. You guys are a huge local sensation.” The band preened under the woman’s praise. “But I’d like to know how you got to where you are today. Any noteworthy stories from the old days?”   
  
Jesse was the first to speak, lips set in a small smirk. “Just your usual small-town kids tryin’ ta find something to do to stay outta trouble. We always knew we were meant for somethin’ more than stickin’ around our one horse town, so the second we were able, we packed up and headed here. Rest’s history.”

 

Aubry grinned, jotting down notes in a spiky shorthand as he spoke. “Now Angela, you’re a new addition to the line-up, what’s it been like working with these three?”

 

“Oh, it’s been a blast.” Angela said eloquently. “I had a lot of catching up to do, but they’re such amazing people, wonderful talents. It really made me strive to be the best I could.”

 

“That’s wonderful!” Aubry said excitedly. “I’m sure it was a huge chunk of stress off of Fareeha’s shoulders when you offered to help out?” 

 

Fareeha stifled a laugh. “You only say that because you weren’t there for the first few lessons.” She dodged to the side to avoid Angela’s playful jab at her shoulder, pointing at her brace with an offended expression. 

 

The group fell into a comfortable laughter as the pair’s antics broke the last of the ice between the reporter and the band and before long, they’d worked their way through every topic anyone could wish to know about the group: future goals, current projects, love interests, and family. 

 

Once they were wrapped up, Aubry stood and shook each of their hands with her large grin back in place. “It was truly wonderful chatting with you all today, I can’t wait for this to be published. You’re an amazing group and I’m excited for Nashville Scene to have one of the first features on your band.”

 

**~*~**

 

Mickey’s was filled with the nearly overpowering scent of tobacco, greasy food and stuffed with patrons. The band sat around a table, plates of nearly finished food and half drank beer glasses scattered along its surface. Jesse leaned back with a loud groan, hand smoothing over his stomach. Hanzo looked as if he were about to fall asleep in his seat. Fareeha reached over and poked his cheek, startling him from his daze.

  
“C’mon Hanzo, how are you tired after the day we’ve had?” She asked, clearly still riding the high from the interview. 

 

He leaned away from her prodding finger and glared at her. “Today, while exciting, was long. I’d say I’m allowed to be tired.”

 

Fareeha gave him a pout before turning to Angela, grin splitting her face once more. “And you? Sleepy after your first big interview?”

 

Angela froze mid-bite, cheek stuffed with loaded fries, eyes wide. She struggled to swallow before answering. “Not at all, just still a little stunned is all.” She poked at one of her cheese-and-meat laden fries as she gathered her thoughts. “I just wish they’d let us know ahead of time that it was going to be put out in hard copy, too. They made it seem like it was just something for their website.”

 

Fareeha nodded sagely before speaking. “It does seem more final that way for some reason.” She took a drink from her glass, wincing slightly at the room temperature beer and tossed a glance toward the bar to judge its emptiness before standing with a stretch. “I need a fresh drink, any of you want something?” She was answered by a grunted ‘no’ from Hanzo while Jesse simply raised a finger. She nodded with a grin and made her way to the bar to flag down the bartender for something cold and a bit harder.

 

Once she had Jesse’s Corona and her whiskey sour in hand, she sidestepped through the patrons to get back to the relative safety of her table. Jesse had perked up and was waiting eagerly on his cold drink but Hanzo had slumped forward and was half dozing. Angela had finished her fries and was eying the sour in her hand with a greedy look.

 

Fareeha laughed and sat the glass down between them. “Give it a try, then. But if you drink the whole thing, you owe me one.”

 

“I’ve never been one for hard liquor.” Angela argued as she raised the glass for a sniff, earning a chuckle from the Egyptian. She glared at Fareeha over the rim of the glass as she took a sip but her nose quickly crinkled as the taste hit her tongue. The glass hit the table as if it’d personally offended the blonde and she fixed it with a death stare, her tongue working in her mouth to rid herself of the remnants of bitterness. “Okay, it’s all yours.” She finally said as she nudged the glass back toward Fareeha. “How can you even drink that?”

 

Fareeha chuckled and raised the glass for a sip of her own. “It’s a favorite. I have them make it with Tennessee Honey though, instead of straight whiskey. Makes it a bit easier to go down.”   
  
Angela stared at her incredulously. “Easier…” She was just about to make another comment when arms slid around Fareeha’s shoulders from behind. The bassist jumped in her seat and nearly dropped her glass, the commotion rousing Hanzo and drawing Jesse’s attention from his cold beer.

 

“I thought that was you, sweetheart.” A voice cooed in her ear and Fareeha flinched away as she felt the breath on her neck. “I’ve been thinking about you.”

 

Angela watched in shocked horror as emotions flashed across Fareeha’s face: surprise, recognition, fear, regret.  _ Sorrow. _ The arms tightened as the blonde stranger leaned further down, her chin resting on Fareeha’s shoulder. She leaned close to whisper directly into Fareeha’s ear.

 

Angela sank lower into her seat as if trying to hide behind the full glass of beer still sat in front of her, watching the altercation with wide eyes. Jesse looked between Fareeha and her newest accessory with an unreadable expression. 

 

Fareeha looked as if she was struggling between bodily throwing the woman from her and joining Angela in hiding under the table.

 

In a sweet voice full of soft southern twangs, a question slid from ruby red lips into Fareeha’s ear: “Since our first night was cut a bit short, how about we get out of here and make the most of the evening?” 

 

Fareeha shivered.

 

Angela’s chair screeched against the hardwood floor as she pushed away from the table, hands fluttering in search of her purse and phone as she made excuses about needing the bathroom. She fled from the table, rapid breaths and nausea clawing at her throat, completely missing the scuffle as the stranger was dragged from Fareeha’s shoulders by a sour-looking Hanzo.

 

Angela barely made it to the bathroom in time, holding the tears and panic at bay. As soon as the heavy door shut behind her, she stumbled into the nearest stall and collapsed on the toilet. She took a few steadying breaths through her mouth, trying her best to avoid noisy sniffles in case someone was in the bathroom with her. 

 

She tugged a bit of toilet paper from the dispenser and wiped her nose as her mind whirled to process what had just happened. Fareeha had told her about bringing a stranger home. It was Fareeha who should be hurting right now, not Angela, yet here she was crying in a dive bar bathroom because her silly crush was being threatened. 

 

_ But not threatened by Jesse? _ The thought caused a bit of a laugh to bubble out amid her tears. She’d never been jealous of Jesse in the way she felt toward that blonde stranger. Jesse and Fareeha were just that: something that just was. A fact of life. This new woman was direct competition and the confirmation that Fareeha liked the company of females as well. 

 

But that newest discovery didn’t even matter because Fareeha was still with Jesse. Angela needed to put a stop to her feelings before she fell too deep. It wasn’t good for anyone. But as she thought of stepping away from Fareeha and their special bond, her heart thudded painfully in her chest. “Too late for that, then.” She grumbled to herself. Angela wiped her eyes and gave her nose a blow, the resulting sniffles nearly masked the door opening.

 

“Angela?” Fareeha’s voice was soft, nearly meek. 

 

A few more sniffles before Angela responded with a tear-thickened, “Yes?”

 

Fareeha sighed before stooping to check beneath the other stalls. Once she deemed the bathroom vacant, she slid the lock closed and moved to Angela’s stall. She gave the door a gentle knock. “Can you come out so we can talk?”

 

A few moments later she was joined by a blotchy-cheeked and red-eyed Angela. Fareeha’s chest clenched as she watched the blonde nearly curl in on herself, a subconscious attempt to protect herself. “I want to-”   
  
“Explain?” Angela asked, tear filled eyes darting up to meet umber. “Shouldn’t you be explaining to Jesse? I already know about her, after all.” Fareeha’s eyes dropped to the floor and Angela set her jaw and sighed. So it  _ was  _ the same woman.

 

“Jesse can handle himself; I’m more worried about you right now.” Dark fingers rose to wipe away a stray tear from Angela’s flushed cheek, but the blonde leaned away. Fareeha let her hand fall to her side, disheartened. She sighed and leaned against the wall, arms crossed as she gathered her thoughts. “I’m sorry.” She finally offered.

 

Angela hummed slightly as she leaned against the counter across from Fareeha, mimicking her pose.    
  
“I just didn’t… I didn’t want you to ever have to meet her, to have a face associated with it all.” Fareeha pushed a hand through her hair in frustration. “It’s not fai-”   
  
“You’re right, it’s not fair.” Angela said, voice like steel. “And it’s not fair that you’re in here with me instead of out there apologizing to Jesse. Don’t you think he deserves this speech a bit more?”   
  
Fareeha froze, mouth moving silently as her thoughts raced to catch up. “What does Jesse have to do with this?” Umber eyes tracked the incredulous look sweeping over Angela’s face. “Did you think…” She tried to mask her shocked laugh. “Angela, we’re not together. He’s like my  _ brother. _ ”    
  
Angela’s eyes widened a bit as Fareeha gave a full body shudder, no doubt applying any thoughts other than familial toward Jesse. “But I saw the way he looked at you when we met that night and he… he was holding you when I barged in your apartment.” She curled in on herself a bit, already warring with the idea that she had been wrong. “I saw you come out of his room half naked!” She added with finality as if it were the nail in the coffin on the matter.

 

Fareeha merely dropped her forehead into her palm with a small chuckle. “Okay first, no one was home that day, it was just me until you showed up and I was looking for my fuzzy socks. Jesse has grabby hands when it comes to them.” She pulled a face as the realization hit as to the implications of his need to steal her socks. “Second, that was a brotherly hug. I was freaking out and he calmed me down.”

 

“Okay fine.” Angela acquiesced. “But the night we met, he-”   
  
Fareeha’s laugh cut off the blushing blonde. “He was telling me not to stare at your ass. That’s why I was blushing… and also why I remember what you were wearing.” She finished lamely, gaining a blush of her own. Her eyes darted to Angela in time to see the flash of hurt and regret. Fareeha’s stomach twisted painfully as her brain made a terrible connection. She remembered clearly the day Angela and Jesse sat on the couch, when the singer had decided to test the blonde’s ability to play their songs. Her heart clenched as she remembered the look passed between the two. “Do you like him?” She asked quietly to the floor, afraid of the answer.

 

Angela’s scoff was nearly deafening in the small bathroom. “Seriously?” 

 

“Look, I’m used to seeing girls throw themselves at him, okay? You wouldn’t be the first that’s buddied up with me so they could get close to him.” Fareeha’s arms tightened around her stomach as she tried to wrestle the painful twist into submission. “We’re not together, so if you have a thing for him-”   
  
Angela softly swore in her native tongue, eyes staring into the middle distance as she shook her head, amazed at the turn of events. “I have a thing for  _ you _ , you idiot.”

 

Fareeha froze, gaze still locked on a cracked tile on the floor. After a long and painfully silent moment, her hands dropped to her side and her eyes flicked up to meet Angela’s. “What?”

 

Angela pressed herself against the counter, lip caught between her teeth as she tried to judge Fareeha’s thoughts. She was just about to speak when Fareeha stalked closer until their bodies were nearly touching.   
  
“Say that again?” Fareeha all but demanded.

 

Angela stuttered silently for a moment before finding the words and courage. “I’m falling for  _ you. _ ”

 

Fareeha’s hand snapped to the small of Angela’s back and tugged her even closer, free hand moving up to trail slightly shaky fingers along Angela’s brow, sweeping aside her bangs as they locked eyes. “That’s good then.” Fareeha mused quietly, lips ghosting teasingly over Angela’s before claiming them in a heated kiss.

 

Angela’s hands flew to Fareeha’s waist as she was tugged forward, letting her eyes fall closed as she savored Fareeha’s plump lips against her own. A small mewl of pleasure echoed in the room as Fareeha’s fingers threaded into the hair at the nape of her neck and Angela blushed as she realized the pleading noise came from her own throat. Her hands slid up Fareeha’s taut stomach before wrapping her arms around her neck, one hand against the back of Fareeha’s head. 

 

Fareeha ended the kiss with a teasing brush of her tongue over Angela’s pinked lips before pulling away for a ragged breath. Her thumb brushed over Angela’s jawline before she traced the same path with butterfly kisses. “I’ve wanted to do that for so long.” She admitted between nips at Angela’s skin. 

 

Angela let her head dip to the side, fingers clenching at the back of Fareeha’s head as she worked her tongue over her pulse point. She gasped as she felt the brush of strong fingers over her lower belly and she gently pulled away. “Fareeha, we shouldn’t-”   
  
“You’re right, I’m sorry.” Fareeha said, already moving to the door, cheeks deep red. She stopped as small fingers wrapped around her own. She turned slowly, glancing up through her lashes at the blonde.

  
“As I was saying, we shouldn’t be doing this  _ here. _ ” Angela said with a coy grin. “But my place is awfully close.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to Kinaesthetic once again for taking care of the mistakes in this.
> 
> There will be an interlude chapter posted as a standalone fic titled "Love the Lonely out of You" which will be pure smut (found here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/13471761). It will fit chronologically between this chapter and next but does not need to be read for the story to make sense. 
> 
> I'll be posting it separately so this work can remain rated as it is. :)


	9. Loving me Back

Fareeha woke sluggishly, eyes squinting at the early morning sun piercing between her curtains. No, she didn’t have curtains and if she did, they wouldn’t be the gauzy material doing nothing to stop the sun’s wake-up call.

 

Blinking away both the eye crust and cloud of confusion, she looked to the bed and suddenly the night came crashing back. She smiled gently as her eyes swept over Angela’s soft curves as she lay on her stomach, crisp white sheet just barely keeping her modesty as it lay slung low over her hips. From her current position, Fareeha could barely make out the end of a scripted tattoo that ran along pale ribs that the Egyptian learned previously was to commemorate Angela’s doctorate. _An oath kept, a life saved._ _Appropriate,_ Fareeha mused.

 

She smiled warmly, dark fingers moving to caress smooth skin but she froze as she took in the contrast between her bronze skin and Angela’s soft pale. Unbidden, Angela’s skin darkened to a tanning bed honey and her white-gold hair became bottle blonde. Fareeha’s stomach churned as even the _smell_ of the stranger came back to her, her sickeningly sweet perfume. In a flash, Fareeha was off the bed and pulling on her clothes as she stumbled to the door.

 

She needed out. She needed to get home. She needed to think.

 

Angela’s front door closed behind her with a soft click and the noise echoed in Fareeha’s mind. Was it only less than half a day ago that they were coming _in_ to Angela’s home in a flurry of excitement and lust? She leaned against the door and scrubbed her face with a heavy sigh. She’d surely messed things up now. She’d moved their relationship past the point of no return with no regard for the blonde’s feelings or her own past mistakes.

 

She was hurting them both.

 

Fareeha pushed away from the door with a huff and made for her bike, straddling the machine, thighs quivering as her panic attack induced adrenaline began to subside. She slumped, nearly curling in on herself as her fists clenched on her knees.

 

She needed out. She needed to get home. She needed to think.

 

And so she slammed on her helmet and sped out of the parking lot.

 

**~*~**

 

When Angela woke to an empty house, her chest tightened as the realization set in. She pulled herself from bed and into the shower, letting the hot water and calming white noise of it hitting the tiles soothe her frazzled nerves.  _Surely Fareeha simply had a reason to leave, she was fine last night._ She reasoned as she scrubbed shampoo through her hair. She leaned back into the spray, letting the bubbles rinse from her locks with a sigh as the self reassurance settled and she finally began to calm.

 

Once she was clean, dry and dressed, she made her way to her kitchen for quick breakfast before settling down in front of her computer, violin in hand. She pulled up the website that had been frequented more than anything in the past few weeks: a tutorial site for fiddling.  
  
She propped the violin against her neck and placed her fingers, running through the quick and swaying scales. It was an odd switch from her classical training, but she’d never backed down from a challenge yet. Her calloused fingers from Wanda’s strings were testament to that.

 

**~*~**

 

Fareeha sat in the middle of her bed cross-legged, Wanda laying across her lap as she idly plucked, hand shooting to her notebook to write down changes to the chord progression she was working on. She hummed quietly to herself as she worked, repeating the lyrics in her head as she tried to set them to music. It was a calming way to end her stressful morning.

 

That was when her door was kicked open by a way-too-hyper Jesse, guitar in hand already bellowing ‘All-Star’ at the top of his lungs.

 

Fareeha kept at her work, pausing only to fix him with a glare and a dryly spoken: “Remind me to replace the doorknob. And lock.”

 

“Aww c’mon, Ree.” Jesse nearly whined as he leaned his acoustic’s body against her bedside tote. “You’ve been in here all mornin’, I haven’t seen ya since ya jetted outta Mickey’s last night.” He sat next to her, dropping an arm over her shoulder. “What’s the problem, sis?”

 

“The problem is letting you watch Shrek.” She monotoned, hands still working the strings.

 

Jesse squinted at her melodramatically, lips pursed as he searched her blank face. “Uh huh…” He poked her cheek. “Nah, somethin’s up.” When she made no reply, he sighed before dejectedly asking, “Should I go get Hanzo?”

 

Fareeha shot him a questioning glance, eyebrows pulled together over pained eyes. “Jess, I-”  
  
“Look, I know you’n him have yer lil gossip sessions.”  
  
“It’s…” She sighed and moved Wanda to the bed, hands folding in her lap. “It’s something I have to handle on my own.”

 

He leaned back and considered her for a moment before nodding to himself. “I know what you need’n it ain’t Hanzo’s obsession with drama. Lemme make a few calls, I’m gettin’ us a stage. Just you’n me.” He chased her gaze for a moment before finally catching her line of sight. He gave her a goofy grin. “Like ol’ times.”

 

**~*~**

 

The pair stepped into the cozy bar, guitar cases in hand, later that night and were met by their long time friend and the entertainment manager of the Bluebird. Fareeha nearly skipped forward to give him a hug, already rambling about updates she’d seen posted on MySpace about his own music career.

 

Jesse simply gave him a firm handshake and a warm smile. “Thanks again for getting us in, Dylan. I know it’s not easy getting an empty stage this quick.”

 

Dylan ducked his head as he grinned, shrugging off Jesse’s words. “Look, I owe you guys everything. You got my foot in the door. So of _course_ I’ll do what I can for you.” He turned to wink at Fareeha. “Even if that means giving up my own spot.”

 

Just as Fareeha was about to chastise him for forfeiting his stage time, she was interrupted by another of the staff. They quietly addressed the manager before leaving and Dylan shot them an apologetic smile. “Sorry, we just had something come up. Fareeha, don’t worry, I can get another spot. I know what happened at the Mercy, I’m honored to have your return show be here.” And with that, he was gone.

 

They flagged down a waitress and ordered some fries and soda before tucking into a booth, storing their guitars against the wall. They sat and ate, making small talk as they waited for their time slot. The nature of open mic nights such as these were usually fast paced change-ups with little regard for late comers, so they kept an eye on the time as they relaxed.

 

“I wanna apologize, Ree.” Jesse interjected into their idle chatter, instantly bringing the mood into a sharper focus. He absently stirred his drink with the straw as he gathered his words. “I’ve been pushin’ really hard for this record deal. And,” he scratched his stubbled cheek, the raspy sound barely audible over the act currently on stage. “Hanzo talked some sense into me, okay? I was too caught up in the chance we had and didn’t want to miss it.” He caught her gaze. “I’m sorry I pushed you too far.”

 

She sighed and picked up a stray fry from the basket, considering the bit of food before tossing it at Jesse’s face with a grin. “You realize that I’m pretty much used to you steamrolling through everyone when you have your mind set on something, right?” She glanced to the stage, judging the amount of time they had left before their turn. “Jesse, your passion for this band is why we are here. In Nashville, on the threshold of these recording offers and venues… We’re here because you pushed us to be here. You’ve known since you first picked up a guitar that you belonged on stage. We were just lucky enough, or unlucky some days, to be brought along.”

 

He grinned at her sheepishly. “Alright fine, but I’m still sorry that I nearly let this break us. You’ve gotta let me know if this starts up again, knock some sense into me.”

 

“Deal.” She agreed, eyes on the stage as she quickly finished off her drink. “Looks like we need to start getting ready.”

 

The two pulled themselves from the booth, Jesse grabbing up the guitar cases and Fareeha piling their trash into a neat pile for the waitress. They made their way to the small green room in the back to fine tune their guitars and wait for their opening. The joys of such a small venue on a laid back open mic night allowed for a more relaxed setup, forfeiting large bands in favor of a few acoustic guitars in an intimate setting.

 

Getting back on stage as an active member of the band was not nearly as awkward as Fareeha had imagined and as they started strumming through the opening chords of their first song, every bit of her anxiousness dropped away. She needed to ground herself in this moment. Not in the past, not with her mistakes or the current mess her relationship with Angela was in.

 

It all came back to bearing witness to her best friend in his element.

 

By the time they’d made it to the last song of their fifteen minute block, she was laughing and joking along with the friendly crowd that so frequented the Bluebird. Their final song was one of her favorites. While it was a love song sung in duet, it had enough of the Jesse flair that it strayed well away from sappy.

 

She’d missed this. She missed when it was just the two of them playing in dive bars or simply from the bed of his pickup at a local cookout. She’d gotten so caught up in making it big, just as Jesse had. She needed to get back to the root of their passion.  
  
_Jesse was right,_ she thought as she sang the final chorus, happily smiling towards the man that had become a brother. _I needed this._

  

**~*~**

 

When Angela woke the next morning to no missed calls or texts, her stomach dropped as the fear set in. Surely something must have happened, she’d done or said something to upset Fareeha. She dragged herself from her bed, pulling along her fleece throw and wrapping it around her shoulders as she made her way to her computer to check her emails. Breakfast could wait until the rock in her stomach went away.

 

She curled up in her computer chair, feet tucked beneath her as she navigated through a few menus, eyes flicking over the list of correspondence, both work related and spam. She grumbled to herself at the amount of clearing she’d need to do and closed out of the program. She’d clean up her inbox later.

 

It wasn’t until she’d closed out of her emails that a headline broke through her sleepy haze. In a near panic, she reopened her inbox, blue eyes scanning subject lines for the one she thought she’d seen. There, a few scrolls down, was the headline she was looking for:

  
**Lead Singer has Bassist’s Heart in a Deadlock**

 

Her finger hovered over the mouse button. She didn’t want to click it. She didn’t want to read a fluff piece detailing Fareeha and Jesse’s realization of romance. She didn’t want confirmation that she was just another woman Fareeha took to bed and then left.

 

She clicked.

 

She scanned the article, taking in keywords that gave her the overview of the subject matter. Fareeha and Jesse at an acoustic open mic night at the Bluebird, singing a love song. Fareeha giving the singer heated looks during the show. The author’s speculation that there would be a change in the lineup in the band now that Fareeha was healing and their relationship was taking off.  
  
Angela was too busy grumbling to herself about the author’s assumption that she’d be removed from the band that she didn’t realize she’d scrolled to the end of the article. The bottom that held a picture of the mentioned show. There, in smoky but full color, were Jesse and Fareeha on a small stage, Jesse leaning into the mic, eyes closed as he crooned. At his side, Fareeha sang as well, eyes locked on the man, loving smile on her face.

 

Angela closed out of the browser, spun from her chair and flew to the bathroom. She clutched at the counter and caught her breath before running some cold water, splashing it over her face and neck to calm herself. She thought back to the night in the dive bar’s restroom, when she’d admitted her feelings for Fareeha. _She never said she felt the same._ Angela realized, a shock of panic shooting down her spine. She needed answers. She needed to talk to someone and she was in no state to go straight to the source. She gripped the counter, gaze locking through the mirror. A few deep breaths later, she straightened.

  
If she couldn’t go to Fareeha, she’d go to her gossip buddy.

 

She needed Hanzo.

 

**~*~**

 

“Is Fareeha here? Can we talk?” She asked as soon as Hanzo answered the door.

 

The man stood for a moment, clearly taking pause to process the bedraggled blonde at the door. “No, she isn’t.” He said slowly, the tail of his words lifting in pitch as if he was unsure if he was stating or asking. “I can call he-”  
  
“No, I need to talk to _you_ .” Angela interrupted as she nearly pushed him aside to enter the walkup. Once she was inside and Hanzo had closed the door behind her, all bravado left her. She stood shyly, nearly curling in on her crossed arms as watery eyes glanced at the drummer through her lashes.  
  
Hanzo shuffled his weight, glancing toward the fridge. “Would you like something to drink?”  
  
“Are Jesse and Fareeha dating?” She demanded though her voice was barely audible.

 

Hanzo’s gaze slowly worked back to the nervous blonde, brows furrowed in confusion. “I’m sorry, what?”

 

“Are they together?” She asked again, some of her previous bravery adding power to her words.  
  
Hanzo could barely contain the scoff. “No! They’re like siblings. There’s never been anything there.” He dropped a hand on her shoulder, grounding her as much as it offered comfort. “Angela, what’s this about?”  
  
Just as she’d opened her mouth to speak, there was a thud at the door, spooking both of them. Through the thin wood, they could make out Fareeha’s grumbling as she fought with the lock. Angela began to withdraw into herself once more, despite Hanzo’s grip tightening on her shoulder.  
  
“Hanzo, open the damn door, my key’s stuck!” Fareeha shouted through the door. “You need to see this bullshit!”

 

The drummer shot Angela an apologetic look before stepping forward to open the door, but just as he reached for the knob, Fareeha barreled through.  
  
“Fucking paparazzi jerkoffs are writing this shit again!” She said, waving a paper toward Hanzo in a fit of rage.

 

He stood calmly, expression softening as the pieces began to click together. “Let me guess, that you and Jesse are dating?” He asked, more for the benefit of the blonde hiding behind him than anything.

 

“Yes! I need your help to find this woman’s contact information. I need to give her a piece of my-” She froze as Hanzo stepped to the side, revealing a pink cheeked and watery blonde. Fareeha dropped the printed article as umber locked with tear filled blue. “Hanzo, give us a moment?” She asked quietly, a mere whisper compared to her previous rant.

 

He nodded and grabbed his keys, leaving the walkup with a mumbled excuse of shopping.

 

Fareeha sighed as she pushed a hand through her bangs and moved to sit on the couch, though she remained perched on the edge as if ready to leap back to her feet should the blonde turn tail. “Would you like to ask your questions first or should I explain?” She asked, eyes downcast.

 

Angela stood frozen, emotions flicking over her face as she fought to contain the betrayal and hurt. After a few moments, she spoke. “Is any of it true?”

 

Fareeha winced at the thought of Angela’s trust in her being so flimsy that she’d doubt her intentions. _But you haven’t given her much to trust._ She reminded herself darkly. “With Jesse?” She asked cautiously.  
  
“With all of it. The articles, the excuses for your interactions with him, with… with us?” As she spoke, she began to pace, passing just in front of Fareeha’s knees. “Is _any_ of it true?” She repeated.

 

“The articles are all lies. They’ve been looking for a hidden romance since we first started getting attention. Jesse still has one that claimed I was dating both of them. It’s all for entertainment, I promise you.” Fareeha spoke, hands wringing as she leaned on her knees. “As for my _excuses_ ,” She continued, adding emphasis on the word to show her dislike of the phrasing. “I was truthful with you. He’s my brother. That’s it.”

 

Angela continued to pace, channeling her anxiousness into the movement so she could more easily break apart Fareeha’s words and analyze them. A warm hand closing over her fingers stopped her. Fareeha tugged her closer, grabbing up her other hand when Angela had turned to fully face the bassist. She gave another tug, pulling the blonde into her lap, dark hands moving to cup either side of Angela’s jaw, drawing their foreheads together.  
  
“As for us,” Fareeha began slowly, maintaining eye contact despite Angela trying to focus on anything but the woman before her. “Ever since that night at the Mercy, it’s been you. Always you.” A thumb traced Angela’s jawline. “You’re selfless and caring, you’ve gone above and beyond what anyone else would to help us, you’re hilarious and light up the room the moment you walk in. Anyone would be lucky to have you in their life, and yet here you are.” Fareeha pulled away slightly to look around her ratty home for emphasis. “In my crappy walk up, in _my_ life. And I’d have it no other way.” Her hands shifted to hold the back of Angela’s head and neck a bit more comfortably. “Because at some point, because of all of that and countless other moments,” She steeled herself, locking eyes with Angela. “I’ve fallen in love with you.”

 

Angela sniffed and swallowed thickly. “But yesterd-”  
  
“I was scared.” Fareeha said, fingers tightening slightly in Angela’s hair. “I was terrified I’d ruined everything. I was worried that you would think I’d treated you like that bar floozy I’d brought home…” Dark eyes widened as she took in Angela’s expression. “Oh love, you thought I-” Fareeha gently swiped away a stray tear as it slipped down Angela’s cheek. “I’m so sorry. You mean so much to me and I panicked when I thought I’d messed it all up. It was stupid of me to leave.”

 

The two sat frozen, Fareeha silently begging Angela to forgive her and Angela working through everything that had just been said. Blue eyes flicked up to meet Fareeha’s and Angela sniffed. “You better not leave again.”

 

Fareeha chuckled before pulling Angela close, lips a breath apart. “Do you forgive me?”

 

“This time.” Angela stated simply as she pulled away slightly, her fingers threading through Fareeha’s hair. “But you better be on your best behavior.” She chided.

 

Fareeha smiled, tears gathering at the corners of her eyes as relief washed over her. “Yes ma’am.” And then she was being tugged toward Angela, soft lips closing over her own.

 

**~*~**

 

The drive to the nearby college town of Murfreesboro was uneventful in the pawn shop’s refurbished U-Haul. It was a blessing that Harold had such a soft spot for the band, allowing them to bypass renting or buying their own equipment hauler. It was a fairly short trip, just under an hour with traffic, but it was Angela’s first big show.  
  
The Mercy was an audience of two hundred. Middle Tennessee State University boasted a showing nearing the thousand mark.

 

So it was with a bit of trepidation that Angela finished her sound checks, clutching Wanda’s neck in a tight grip. At her side, Fareeha leaned against a stool, foot propped on a rung as she fine-tuned her lapsteel. As if sensing her gaze, the woman glanced up, meeting Angela’s worried expression with a soft smile.  
  
“You’ll do great. If it gets overwhelming, I’m right here. Just imagine we’re back at my place practicing.”

 

Angela nodded nervously before looking out over the grassy field that was soon to be filled with college students. She caught her lower lip between her teeth, fingers passing over Wanda’s strings in a comforting manner. “If you say so…”

  
**  
~*~**

 

Angela’s performance started rocky, nearly half a count behind Hanzo, but after a quick glance to Fareeha’s reassuring smile, she shed the nervousness and finally began to enjoy the rush of playing on stage.

 

By the third song, she was bouncing on her toes along with the beat and audience members, smiling as she replicated the same complicated riff that first drew her attention to Fareeha’s long fingers all those months ago. She could see why this was so addicting for her three friends.

 

As the set drew to a close, Jesse swung his guitar to his back and plucked the mic from the stand. “I just wanna give a huge thanks to ya’ll’s amazing welcome. If I was ever the school type, I reckon’ this’d be the place I’d come.” He got a few country-whistles at that. “So we’re gonna play one last’n for ya-”  
  
He was cut off by a chant that was slowly increasing in volume. “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!”

 

He glanced at Fareeha who seemed to be caught somewhere between embarrassment and anger that the article had reached this far outside of Nashville. She returned his gaze for a long moment before tipping her head toward Angela with a smirk. Jesse returned her smile before shrugging and holding the mic towards her. “Go right ahead, Ree.”

  
Backed by an uproar of cheers and whistles, Fareeha walked to the microphone with a bit of swagger, taking it from Jesse and looking out over the crowd. “I guess you guys want to see what all the fuss in the papers is about?” Another loud cheer. “Well you see, paparazzi rarely get things right. There _is_ a hidden romance in the Deadlock Gang, but,” She moved to Angela, pulling the blonde against her, smiling as Angela let out a surprised squeak that was picked up in the mic. “They just got it wrong on who it was.” And with that, she fulfilled the audience’s request for a kiss, much to the shock and surprise of those watching.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Art by the amazing Caleb Crow: https://caleb-crow.tumblr.com


	10. Shoot Me Straight

The four poured off the stage, puddles of adrenaline and laughter, intent on calming their nerves backstage for a moment before breaking down their equipment. Angela was still beet red but hiding her embarrassment behind a smile. Fareeha gave her a sideways hug, tossing a reassuring wink her way.

 

That’s when the camera flash illuminated the backstage hallway.

 

Instinctively, Fareeha pulled Angela closer, tucking her into her side and herding her further down the hallway while shooting a pointed look at Jesse. 

 

The man turned on the young boy with a scowl. “You best be deletin’ that.” He jabbed at the digital camera clutched in the kid’s hands. “How’d you even get in here anyway?”

 

The kid held up a laminated badge but in the low light, Jesse could only make out the school’s logo at the bottom. “I work with the school paper. I wanted to be the first to report the huge announcement.”   
  
Jesse nearly growled. “There  _ is _ no huge announcement.” He raised his hands in air quotes. “Now delete that’n get outta here. I better not see you around again.” He leaned over, now nearly nearly nose to nose with the young man. “And if I see you writing anything about those two girls? Yer ass is mine.”

 

**~*~**

 

The interstate was mercifully barren as the band made their way back to Nashville. Jesse was asleep, face planted against the window, and Fareeha and Angela sat squished together on the middle of the U-Haul’s bench seat. Angela had been fidgeting ever since they finished break down and now that she was pressed against a drowsy Fareeha, she was beginning to wear on the bassist’s nerves. 

 

A dark hand closed over Angela’s wringing fingers with a sigh from the woman leaning against the conked-out cowboy. “What’s on your mind?” She asked softly once she’d caught Angela’s worried gaze, umber eyes dark with concern.

 

Angela shifted slightly, turning further to face Fareeha, lip caught between her teeth as she struggled to convert her racing worries into words. “What’s going to happen now?” Her fingers returned to twisting against themselves as she nervously chewed her lip. “You know, how people will see us… Friends, family, fans, future employers?” Her hands stilled. “Was that really the best move?”

 

Fareeha looked past Angela to Hanzo, who was mid drive-daze and trying very hard not to listen in. She sighed and refocused on Angela, threading her fingers through restless pale ones and bringing them up for a soft kiss. “It was bound to come out. I’d rather it be on our terms than some rookie reporter trying to spin it as a huge secret.”

 

Blue locked with umber. “Don’t you think we should have talked about that?”

 

Fareeha, properly chagrined, shifted her gaze to their interwoven fingers, swallowing thickly. “You’re right, I overstepped.” It was as if she was back in Angela’s den, trembling on her couch, still clammy from the cold October rain, hopeful for forgiveness; as if she was on her own couch, pleading for Angela to believe her. Fareeha scoffed to herself, shaking her head sadly, eyes tracing a bit of pulled upholstery on the ceiling. Was that really her track record with the woman she claimed to love? “I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking at all. I was just so happy at how things had turned out and I wanted to shut down the stupid rumors… I didn’t think how it’d affect all of us.”

 

Angela sighed, the sound drowned out by the road noise, and placed a reassuring hand on Fareeha’s knee. “I’m willing to weather whatever comes with you. But,” She gave her knee a squeeze, eyes flicking up to Fareeha’s. “I  _ am _ worried about my parents. They… they thought my sexuality was a phase that I’d grown out of. Mother forced me into so many dates that I finally made an agreement with Genji so she would back off.”   
  
Fareeha gave her a soft smile and tucked a bit of stray hair back into Angela’s unruly bun. “Like you said, we’ll weather whatever comes together.” Her thumb traced Angela’s cheekbone, fingers splayed against her jaw and neck. “We can go talk to them tomorrow, if you’d like.”

  
Angela bit her lip and shook her head. “They’re both out of town for the week. Mother is in New York until this weekend. Dad should be home Thursday; he’s in California for a health summit.” She sighed. “He’d be the easier to deal with anyway, I think.”

 

Fareeha nodded and gave Angela’s hand a squeeze. “So we talk to him first. Meet somewhere neutral on Friday? Maybe a restaurant. Public so he can’t cause a scene?” She joked.

 

Angela nuzzled into Fareeha’s palm, eyes falling closed with a chuckle that morphed into a relieved sigh. “I’d like that.”   
  


**~*~**

 

Fareeha woke with a stripe of fire running up her spine resulting from her hastily made nest on the couch. She stretched her arms over her head and let her back bow forward, a hearty moan filling the living room. She scratched the back of her head as she straightened her wrinkled shirt, stifling a yawn. She stood and made her way to the kitchen, setting the tea kettle on the hotplate. Once four mugs were placed on the counter, she shuffled to the bathroom still in a sleep daze.

 

The door was shut but her bedroom door was open, indicating it was their guest currently in the restroom. She smiled softly at the memory of fighting with Angela over who would take the bed and her eventual victory over the blonde. She took the opportunity to gather some fresh clothes from her now unoccupied room, busying herself until she heard Angela shuffle in from the bathroom.

 

Fareeha glanced up with a smile, the expression instantly turning warmer once she took in Angela’s rumpled bedhead. “Morning,” she chuckled before tossing her chin toward her closet. “If you want to shower, feel free to use something of mine, but I get dibs on the bathroom first.” Angela yawned and nodded, tossing her a weak thumbs up. “Oh and I started the kettle, can you-” She was cut off as Angela turned on her heel and made her way to the kitchen, leaving Fareeha laughing in the middle of her room. “Alright, neat.” 

 

By the time both women had showered and the boys staggered from their room, it was nearing noon. Though the day had started lazy, Fareeha and Angela grabbed up their coats and Angela’s clothes before leaving the house with a shouted farewell. As they made their way down the stairs, Fareeha tossed the U-Haul’s keys to Angela.    
  
“I’ll take the truck. It’s a bit too cold for the bike without you having some winter gear and Jesse’s clutch sticks.” She explained as they pushed out into the biting cold. Angela immediately tucked into Fareeha’s side to avoid the frigid air blasting down the storefronts. Fareeha wrapped an arm around the blonde as she glared at the gray sky grumpily. 

 

She nearly missed the first flash of a camera.

 

Within seconds, the young reporter from backstage was at their side and pushing into their personal space. His rapid fire questions were ignored as Fareeha shouldered past him, pulling Angela along as well. Angela turned to address the boy, her lips already forming words, but Fareeha’s hand slipped up to gently lay against the back of her neck. Blue eyes darted over and Fareeha shook her head, her eyes flicking to the U-Haul pointedly. Angela nodded and the pair made their way to Harold’s truck, backs hunched against the cold, pleas for answers, and camera flashes.

 

Angela climbed into the driver’s side and Fareeha braced against the door frame, hand clutching the door as she spoke softly, her words hiding her building annoyance. “Just drive, I’ll follow you. Let’s just get there and sort this out once we’re away from him, okay? Just drive, you’ll be fine.” She reassured when she saw Angela’s brows crinkle with worry.

 

Angela nodded stiffly, only slightly relaxing when Fareeha moved to give her knee a squeeze. Fareeha stepped back and slammed the door before jogging to Jesse’s truck, sidestepping the boy and his attempts at gaining her attention.

 

She took a moment for a deep breath once she was seated behind the wheel, eyes focused on the brake lights ahead of her as her hand absently hit Jesse’s speed dial. He’d need to know that the kid was back. Once she saw the U-Haul begin to pull off, she put the truck into first gear and pulled away from the curb.

 

**~*~**   
  


Harold’s shop was empty when they arrived. Fareeha directed Angela to park the truck in the back lot before parking herself out front. She clambered from Jesse’s truck and made her way to Angela, grabbing up the woman’s still shaking hands in her own. 

 

“Let’s get inside and relax, yeah?” She was answered with a stiff nod and the two made their way inside.

 

The tinkling bell hanging above the door announced their entrance and Harold looked up from cleaning a counter with a smile, his upbeat welcome dying on his lips as he noticed the pale blonde tucked into Fareeha’s side. He dropped his rag and sped to the door, flipping the sign against the glass to indicate the store was now closed and flicked the lock.    
  
“Let’s go have a seat.” He said, a large hand pointing out a door in the back of the shop. The three made their way into the lounge and Fareeha helped Angela to sit on a beat up couch, thumb stroking over the top of her hand as she sat next to her. 

 

With a grunt, Harold dropped into a nearby armchair. “So what happened?” He asked pointedly as he handed a pair of cold water bottles to the women.

 

Fareeha shot a concerned look to Angela before telling Harold about the rumors, the show at MTSU and the two times they’d been ambushed by the kid from the university’s paper.

 

Harold sat back and quietly took in their plight, nodding and humming appropriately before finally speaking. “And you’re worried you two bein’ lovers will affect your image, your band’s image.” The two sat quietly before nodding. Harold heaved a sigh before slapping his knees with meaty hands. “Welp, that’s just a load’a horse shit.”

 

The passionate response shocked a chuckle from Fareeha and a squeak of laughter from Angela.

 

“Reeha, you know this so bear with me.” He started, tossing an apologetic smile at the bassist before turning his attention to the blonde. “My son Rodney had an issue similar. Now, he wasn’t in the spotlight as much as you kids but he still had to deal with the fallout that comes from being gay in this close-minded town. But he stuck through it and came out stronger.” He smiled wistfully, trailing his words into thoughtful silence. “There’s nothing stopping you kids from achieving everything you want. Sure, there will be people that stop liking you. They’ll boycott your CD drops and your concerts, tell their kids your music is ‘of the devil.’ But you’ll also have your die hard fans that’ll stick with you through it all. Those are the ones you need to lean on.”

 

Angela clasped Fareeha’s hand in her own, taking comfort in the warm and strong hand as she smiled thankfully at Harold. While it had been a relief to hear encouraging words from Fareeha, getting the reassurance from a third party was so much more so.

 

It was then that Angela’s phone rang. She smiled apologetically at Harold before fishing the offending device from her pocket. Fareeha’s attention snapped to the blonde when she felt her stiffen at her side. Fearful eyes shot to the bassist before flicking back down to the caller ID.

 

“It’s… Mother. I-” She stood shakily and left the room, phone already pressed to her ear. “Hello, Mother, how ar-”

 

_ “Would you like to explain why I received a call from Dr. Jenson ranting about your recent gallivanting?” _

 

Angela leaned against a counter, arm wrapping over her stomach in a comforting manner. “How di-”   
  
_ “You realize you have  _ ruined _ your chances of becoming a therapist. And what about that poor Genji boy, he’ll never propose now.” _

 

Angela dropped her head into her hand, curling in on herself. “Mother please, can we ta-”

 

_ “It’s not enough that you were allowed to give up your dreams of being a neurosurgeon, but now you’re out canoodling with the first butch lesbian that catches your eye?” _

 

Angela’s fingers curled into a fist against her forehead, posture, voice, and expression hardening. “Excuse me, mother but-” This time the interruption was Fareeha entering into the room with a supportive smile on her face. She gave Angela a placating wave before leaning against an opposite counter. Bolstered by the woman’s silent support, Angela continued firmly. “You know  _ nothing _ about this situation, so I will explain when you get back in town. I will  _ not _ have this conversation over the phone.”   
  
_ “Young la-” _ _   
_ _   
_ “ _ Goodbye _ , mother.” And she pulled her phone from her ear and snapped it closed in one smooth motion. The resonating  __ clack set off Angela’s nerves and the blonde caught Fareeha’s gaze with tear-filled eyes. “I can’t believe I just did that.”

 

Fareeha gave the woman a sympathetic smile as she pushed away from the counter, gentle hands grasping Angela’s elbows, thumbs stroking comfortingly. “I’m proud of you for holding your ground, though I imagine that meeting will be hard to get through.”

 

Angela winced slightly. “I did kind of kick the hornet’s nest, didn’t I?”

 

Fareeha hummed. “You could have delivered it with a bit more tact, but you set your boundaries.” Her hands slid up Angela’s arms to cup her jaw and she leaned forward to drop a gentle kiss on the blonde’s forehead. “And I’ll be right there with you when you speak with her.”

 

**~*~**

 

After a quick call to Jesse letting him know they’d be late bringing his truck back, the two pulled into an overflow parking lot at the Nashville Zoo. During the drive over, Angela had slowly began to brighten up, happy to distract herself with Fareeha’s suggestion of a relaxing day before ‘the shit hit the fan.’

 

Fareeha turned off the truck and hopped out, jogging to Angela’s door to open it and help the blonde out. She threaded her fingers through Angela’s and lead her toward the main entrance with a smile.

 

Once their entry fee was paid, they bent over the folded map handed to them by the way-too-chipper ticket girl to decide their course of action. A pale finger pointed to the African trail. “Could we start there? I love the big cats.” Angela asked. 

 

Fareeha wrapped her arm around the blonde’s shoulders with a smile, happy to see her excited and eager. “Of course. But we do have to hit the reptiles before we leave.”

 

The two continued on, leisurely strolling along the cobblestone paths and admiring the various animals of the savannah. As they approached the elephant exhibit, Fareeha’s newest form of entertainment made itself known.

 

The bassist pointed out a baby elephant as it trotted along after its mother. “You know, I’m glad they keep babies here and don’t shuffle them around.”   
  
“Oh, so they can stay with their mother?” 

 

“Nah,” Fareeha said with a shake of her head. “Traveling around must be killer with their little trunks.”

 

Angela blinked slowly as the pun registered. She tossed the Egyptian a sideways glare. “Yes, it must be difficult. But like you said, they don’t get moved around, so your pun is  _ irrelephant _ .” 

 

Fareeha turned to the blonde with a huge grin. “Oh it’s on, Dr. Ziegler.”

 

Despite Fareeha’s challenge, she was oddly quiet through the rest of the African trail and their trip to a food cart. The two picked out their wraps and ate on their way to the tundra and mountain exhibit.

 

They approached a habitat with various goats and sheep from the Alps and surrounding peaks. Fareeha craned her neck, looking up the fabricated mountain side at the dotting of animals along the cliffs. She drew Angela’s attention with a chuckle and pointed out the solitary animal near the peak.   
  
“How do you think he  _ goat _ up there?” 

 

If Angela groaned, she masked it well. Instead of giving Fareeha the satisfaction of a pun well-received, she answered. “He flew, obviously.”

 

Fareeha hummed in thought. “Well,  _ ibex _ to differ.”

 

This time, Angela did groan. 

 

With a grumble, she grabbed Fareeha’s hand and tugged her away from the habitat. A large crowd caught her attention and she led Fareeha toward it. At the center of the mass of people was a zookeeper with a falcon on her raised forearm, speaking into a headset that allowed her to be heard over the crowd. 

 

“The next animal Meet’N’Greet starts in twenty minutes. Be sure to come visit us at the aviary!”

 

Wide blue eyes darted to Fareeha’s. “Can we go?” Angela had brought her hands up under her chin in a begging motion, Fareeha’s caught up with them. 

 

The bassist laughed and gave Angela’s hand a squeeze. “Of course, let’s head there now so we get close to the front.”

 

They arrived at the pavilion before the rush and took the extra time to admire the aviary behind the Meet and Greet awning. Angela cooed as she pointed out a golden eagle on a high branch and Fareeha countered with a gesture to a falcon nearby. 

 

Angela gave Fareeha a playful nudge with her shoulder. “What, no pun this time?”

 

Fareeha tugged Angela against her and dropped a kiss on the crown of her head. “I can’t think of one.  _ Hawkward _ , isn’t it?” She felt Angela crumple against her with a quiet groan and gave her a squeeze. Angela’s verbal protest became louder and she tucked her face against Fareeha’s chest before pulling away with a pout. 

 

“You’re terrible.” Fareeha only laughed.

 

A sharp squelch of a mic interrupted the calm as the zookeeper stepped up to the pavilion. The two turned and made their way to the show, Angela eagerly absorbing every word the zookeeper said. Fareeha smiled at the woman’s excitement and wrapped her arms around the blonde, pulling her against her front and hooking her chin over her shoulder.

 

**~*~**

 

Fareeha led Angela to her front door, hands clasped and smiles on their faces. The bassist brought up their joined hands and dropped a kiss on Angela’s knuckles, resulting in a blushing blonde.

 

“I’ll call you when Mother gets back to town. She’ll want to meet at their house, a power play really, so I’ll pick you up and we’ll head up together.” Angela bit her lip. “If you still wanted to be there.”

 

Fareeha tugged Angela against her, her hands looping at the small of the blonde’s waist as she gave her a kiss on the forehead. “Of course I’ll be there. Give me a ring when you know more, okay?”

 

Angela tucked into the bassist, nuzzling her neck with a content sigh. “Thank you.” Fareeha held her for a moment, lips brushing against skin and stray hairs as she dropped butterfly kisses along her jaw.

 

“And hey, don’t stress yourself out either, okay?” Fareeha asked as she pulled away, hands sliding up Angela’s arms to give her shoulders a squeeze. “If you need me for anything, I’m here.” She brought her hand up to cup Angela’s jaw, a dark thumb sweeping over a sun-pinked cheek. “Together, right?”

 

Angela smiled and nodded. “Together.”

 

“Alright, I’m gonna head back and get Jesse’s truck to him. He’s probably wearing a hole in the floor worried about his ‘precious baby girl.’” She brought a hooked finger to Angela’s chin and guided her up, lips meeting in a sweet kiss. “Call me.” 

 

“I will. Thank you again.” Angela gave her another quick peck before stepping into her apartment. 

 

Fareeha nearly skipped to the truck, bottom lip tucked between her teeth as she grinned giddily. As soon as she shut the door behind her and started the engine, her phone rang.

 

_ Gabe. _ She read with a groan. She sank against the bench seat with a sigh, hand dragging over her face as she let the phone ring a few more times. With a groan and a shake of her shoulders, she answered.

 

“Yeah?”

 

_ “Why in the name of all that’s holy did I just get a call from a kid named Phillip from the MTSU newspaper?” _

 

“Oh, so that’s his name.” She scratched her cheek.   
  
_ “Yes that’s his name, you little shit. Explain.” _

 

“...What did he tell you?” She asked, dodging the question.

 

_ “Reeha…”  _ He growled.

 

“Okay okay, look. I made a spur of the moment choice and kissed Angela on stage, alright? The crowd was chanting for a kiss because they heard the rumors about me and Jesse and I just wanted to set them straight.”

 

_ “Well, now  _ straight _ is the last thing on their minds. Do you have any idea how hard this will be to clean up?”  _

 

Fareeha pinched the bridge of her nose and exhaled slowly. “It was bound to come out anyway and-” 

 

_ “And you’ll be lucky if I can swing this as a publicity stunt gone wrong.” _

 

Fareeha’s head fell back into the window with a dull thunk, eyes sweeping over the pulled upholstery super glued to the roof of the truck. “I’m sorry, alright? I’ll make whatever statements you need me to. I won’t do it again.” 

 

Gabe sighed and the noise nearly muffled the audible stubble scratch.  _ “I’ll try and head off the reporters, get a story out there about you guys wanting to grab attention, make waves… hell, even wanting to thrive off the controversy.” _ _   
_ __   
“Makes us sound like such shits when you put it that way.” 

 

_ “Yeah well, as much as I’d love to market you guys as a LGBT band, our lovely Nashville isn’t quite there. It’s  _ getting _ there, but slowly.” _

 

Fareeha sighed, eyes darting to Angela’s door. “Maybe one day.”

 

**~*~**

 

Angela’s car pulled to a stop in front of a house that was nothing short of a mansion. The long trip up the driveway was tense and full of nervous fidgeting, but as soon as the house came into view, the nausea set in.

 

Fareeha glanced at a paper-white Angela. “Are you going to be okay?” The blonde stiffly nodded. “We can wait here as long as you need.” The bassist offered but Angela shook her head.

  
“Might as well get it over with.” And with that, the blonde was out of the car. The pair walked up to the front door, Fareeha in awe at the perfectly manicured lawn and hedges, amazed at their vivid green despite the time of year.

 

Angela gripped the elaborate handle and heaved a sigh, squaring her shoulders before she tugged the door open. The pair stepped inside and Angela politely ignored Fareeha’s sharp inhale as the woman took in the polished marble and dark, stained woods that made up the entryway. Dark eyes snapped to the tall blonde as she stepped into the foyer, dressed in a regal skirted business suit and pointed heels.

 

“Angela.” The sharp accent twisted the name to sound more like a command than a mother welcoming her daughter. Hazel eyes shot to Fareeha, staring at her with a calculating gaze, years of social training keeping the disgust from showing on her features. “And I see you’ve brought a friend.”

 

Fareeha physically restrained herself from shifting her weight nervously; Angela cleared her throat. “Yes, this is Fareeha. Fareeha, this is my mother Elena.”

 

Fareeha stepped forward, hand out and a smile on her face. Elena’s eyes dropped to the offered hand, lips curling back as she spoke. “Pleasure.” Fareeha stood for another moment before awkwardly stepping back in line with Angela, hand clenching at her side as she glanced at Angela.

 

“Mother, perhaps we should sit down?” Angela offered placatingly as she motioned to a sitting room off to the side of the entryway.

 

Elena pursed her lips but eventually acquiesced and led them into the room. She perched on the edge of a white chaise, ankles crossed demurely and hands folded in her lap. She watched with judgemental eyes as Angela sat, her daughter’s posture deviating from her trained perfection, followed by Fareeha, who subtly swiped at the seat of her pants before sitting down on the pristine white couch. 

 

“I doubt this is a conversation you’d like your friend to be witness to. Perhaps it would be best if she were to wait outside.”

 

A pale hand clamped over Fareeha’s as if she were afraid of the Egyptian leaving. “She’s staying.” 

 

“Very well.” And with that, Elena’s attention turned fully to her daughter, completely ignoring Fareeha. “Are you ready to explain yourself?”   
  
“There isn’t much to explain. I’m pursuing happiness. Surely that’s what you want for me?” A sharp grip on her hand had Angela smiling apologetically at her mother before swiping a thumb over dark knuckles reassuringly.

 

“What I  _ want _ for you? I  _ want  _ you to get your life back on track, stop this band nonsense and get your nose back to the grindstone! Instead of owning your own practice, you’re wasting your best years with this childish fantasy.” 

 

“I’d hardly say that building relationships, helping my friends achieve their dreams and finding enjoyment in my own choices as a ‘childish fantasy.’” Angela retorted.

 

Elena sighed, allowing her posture to droop for a brief moment. “You had such a wonderful future ahead of you…” She lamented. Angela rolled her eyes at her mother’s attempt at guilt. “And poor Genji…”   
  
“Yes,  _ poor _ Genji, the man you keep awkwardly forcing on me even though we only see each other as friends. Poor Genji, who has to lie to you and  _ his _ mother every time you two ask how our relationship is going.” 

 

“I’m sorry that I’m invested in my daughter’s life. I apologize for wanting the  _ best _ for you.” She cut her gaze, finally, to Fareeha before locking back on her daughter.    
  
Fareeha tensed, eyes narrowing. “With all due respect, ma’am-”

 

“Do not speak as if you know what is good for  _ my _ daughter.” Elena sniffed, glaring down her nose at Fareeha. “The novelty of whatever  _ this _ is will wear off soon enough.” She waved flippantly at their joined hands. 

 

Fareeha opened her mouth to speak but Angela cut her off. “ _ This- _ ” She raised their clasped hands, “-is the best thing that has happened to me. For once I have my own goals, my own plans. I’m excited to wake up in the morning and tackle another day because Fareeha is with me, she’s there smiling and supportive. So I  _ hope _ that doesn’t wear off any time soon.”

 

“And owning your own private practice? Where does that fit in?”   
  
“Wherever I please.” Angela’s answer was short, testament to her dwindling patience.

 

“So you’re throwing it all away just to spread your legs like some whore for this dy-”   
  
Angela shot to her feet, the scuffle masking Fareeha’s near-growl. “For my  _ girlfriend _ .” She interrupted, eyes glaring icy daggers at Elena, who retreated further onto the chaise with a small squeak. “You can say what you want about me, about my choices, about the star-studded future you’d planned out for me before I’d even been born.” Her voice dropped menacingly. “But you will  _ not _ speak about the woman I love that way.

 

“This is  _ my  _ life and  _ my _ choice.” She tugged Fareeha to her feet and nudged her toward the door. “You will either accept me and what I do, learn to live with it if you have to, or I’m gone. Goodbye,  _ Mother _ .”

 

**~*~**

 

Fareeha slumped into her walkup and tossed Jesse’s keys onto the table with a heavy sigh. The clatter drew the man from his room, his head popping around the doorframe in a manner that would have normally brought a smile to Fareeha’s face. 

 

She could only manage a tired quirk of her lip.

 

“Ree?” Jesse asked cautiously, stepping fully out of his room. 

 

Dark eyes locked on her friend through even darker lashes. “Can we talk?”

 

“Aw, Ree, you know them words never come before anything good.” He complained, even as he made his way to the couch, gesturing for Fareeha to join him once he’d sat. “What’s up?

 

She twisted her hands in her lap before bringing him up to speed on her entire day. The reporter kid, Harold’s, the call from Gabe, meeting Angela’s mother. She nearly broke into tears as a large and warm hand dropped over her own. “It was rough, Jess.” She sniffed, wiping at damp eyes with the back of her wrist. “She just tore into Angela. She was so-” A sniff. “So  _ vile. _ ”

 

Jesse gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. “How did Ange handle it?”

 

Fareeha finally smiled, albeit small, as she shook her head incredulously. “She was brilliant. Went toe to toe with her own mother.”

 

“She  _ is _ quite the spitfire.”

 

Fareeha hummed in thought before grimacing. “And then there’s the Gabe situation.” 

 

Jesse gave her a firm pat on the hand before leaning back with a wide smile on his face. “If people have an issue with you’n Angela, they can get to walkin’. Y’all’re good for each other, don’t let these close minded jerks make ya think any diff’rent.” He gave her a pointed look. “I don’t care if we have to start over, back t’doin’ free shows for whoever’ll listen. This band, this  _ family _ ,” He clapped her knee, giving it a firm shake. “Is worth more than anything. N’I’ll be damned if I let some rumors or bad press mess with it.”

 

**~*~**

 

Angela and Fareeha sat at a booth nestled in the back corner of O’Charleys, thighs pressed against each other in a silent show of support and comfort. Angela fiddled with her straw as it bobbed in her drink. Fareeha spent her time admiring the mural of Nashville that wrapped around the bar. She tensed when Angela sharply inhaled, eyes darting to the door.

 

A slightly round man walked in from the cold, hand pulling a cap from his slightly balding head as he grinned at the hostess. She gestured toward the back booth with a bright smile and he turned, making his way to the table.

 

Fareeha stood swiftly, swiping her palms on her slacks before extending a hand with a smile. To her surprise, her father scooped up her hand between both of his and gave it a firm shake, smile never leaving his face. “You must be Fareeha.” He said as he released her hand and gave Angela a wink. “I’ve heard a lot about you from Elena. You can call me Luke or Dr. Ziegler, whichever you’re more comfortable with.” And he sat opposite Angela and immediately swept her into a light hearted conversation. 

 

Fareeha stood in shock for a moment, trying to understand how Dr. Ziegler’s behavior could be such a polar opposite to his wife’s. A gentle tug at her hand accompanied by a quiet giggle from Angela brought her attention back to the table. She sat with a blush and a mumbled apology. With an expertise borne from years of rubbing elbows with the highest of the elite, Dr. Ziegler brought Fareeha into the conversation and within a few short quips about a rowdy patient, the three were laughing over their appetizers.

 

Dr. Ziegler sobered first, leaning casually on his elbows, hands folded over his empty plate. “So Fareeha, I’ve heard about your encounter with my charming wife, but I’d like to hear your version.”

 

Fareeha floundered for a moment but found her words as a calming hand settled against her thigh. “My story probably doesn’t differ much, there was a lot of heated words and barbs made in anger and defense. But Angela held her ground and she was wonderful. I-” She glanced at Angela from the corner of her eye. “I love her more than I ever thought possible. And I’ll spend as long as she’ll have me, showing her that every day.”   
  
Dr. Ziegler nodded solemnly, blue eyes darting between his daughter and Fareeha before fixing the bassist with a sharp glare and pointed finger. “You hurt her, I’m coming after you.”

 

Fareeha smiled gently, ducking her head to hide the expression. “I think that’s something we can both avoid, sir.”


	11. 21 Summer

The four sat around Gabe’s conference table, an oversized dining table that took up the entire front room of the man’s townhouse. Anxious glances were shared between them as they waited for the band’s manager to finish his call and join them. They’d been preparing themselves for the worst since Fareeha had relayed her conversation to the rest of the band and now, his phone was the only thing saving them from a scolding. 

 

They all stiffened as they heard his phone clack shut, the only warning they had before the large man entered the room and sat gruffly between Jesse and Hanzo. 

 

“So things are mostly handled. Your  _ biggest fan _ ,” he said with a twist of his lips, “Has agreed to stop harassing you in return for an exclusive interview once you’re signed.” Gabe scratched his jawline. “As for any other reporters… I’m working with Jack at Watchpoint Records to head that off as well. We’re going to try spinning it as trying to appeal to the younger crowd.” He held up his hand as Fareeha made to speak. “It’ll most likely be your older and more traditional fans that cause an issue, so we’re going to be reworking your marketing and target audience. Hit hard and fast on the country  _ rock _ aspect of your band and go from there.”

 

Fareeha nodded, comforted by the more proactive approach Gabe was taking instead of relying on lies and deceit to cover up her decision and relationship.

 

“So we’re good?” Jesse asked cautiously.

 

“As of right now, yes.” Gabe answered.

 

The four sighed in relief, releasing little huffs of nervous laughter as well. 

 

“So now,” Gabe began. “We just have to set you guys up with Watchpoint, finally get your names on the papers and all that official stuff. The recent drama would have scared off many of the record companies here, let’s be honest really,  _ most _ of them. But Jack is determined to get you guys signed.”  
  
  
“When are we goin’?” Jesse asked.

 

“Got you set up for Tuesday, so be ready.”

 

Hanzo shifted. “And Angela?” 

 

Gabe leaned back in his chair with a small sigh. “That’s up to you guys. Jack said he’d sign the three original members or all four with Angela included. So it’s your choice.” He looked pointedly to Angela. “Anything else?”

 

Four pairs of eyes glanced around questioningly before Fareeha finally spoke. “I think that’s it for now, thanks Gabe.”

 

**~*~**

 

Angela danced around her apartment, music blaring from her computer speakers as she caught up on her cleaning routine. Glass table tops, knickknack shelves and even the tops of her framed playbills were dusted as she sang along with the lyrics of the 90s mix CD. She smiled softly as she dusted the framed laser tag score sheet, biting her lip as she laughed to herself as she remembered Fareeha’s expression as they stood before the screen at LaserQuest when their scores popped up.

 

The pop beat of Britney Spears nearly drowned out her phone ringing.

 

She dashed to the computer to mute the speakers and scooped up her phone from the desk, tucking it against her ear before she’d even checked the caller ID.

 

“Hello?” She asked, chipper yet breathless from her singing, dancing and frantic sprint to her desk.

 

“Angela.” Her mother’s voice sent the blonde’s stomach straight to her feet.

 

Angela swallowed thickly, moving to her couch on stiff legs. “Hello, Mother.”

 

The line was silent for a moment longer than was comfortable before Elena spoke. “I have thought about what you said and I’ve come to a conclusion.”  
  
  
Her mother’s steely voice sapped the last bit of desperate hope Angela still held. “And?” She asked, trepidation seeping into her voice.

 

“I can’t accept it.” She said bluntly; Angela bit back a sob. 

 

“Angela, you will always be my daughter and I’ll love  _ you _ . But I can not and  _ will  _ not accept the choices you’re making. You are wasting your life, throwing away all of your hard work for a mistake.” Angela curled in on herself, small whine at the back of her throat. 

 

“As long as you are going down this path you will not have my support.” The words were quick and practiced and each one stabbed into Angela’s heart. 

 

“When you see reason, I will be here. Until that time comes, goodbye, Angela.” The line went dead.

 

The phone slipped from numb fingers as silent tears tracked down Angela’s cheeks.

 

**~*~**

 

Three rapid knocks were the only warning before the walkup’s front door was frantically pushed open. Angela rushed inside, face pink and eyes red and, after a quick point at Fareeha’s room from a stunned Hanzo, made a beeline for the bassist’s door.

 

Fareeha sat on her bed, book of scribbled lyrics spread out in front of her crossed legs as she plucked at a ukulele. The blonde’s watery sniff at her door drew her attention. Her head snapped to the doorway and within seconds, her instrument was on the bed and she was off of it and at Angela’s side.

 

Dark hands shot to Angela’s jawline, thumbs swiping away tears even as they began to flow faster. Angela’s trembling hands gripped Fareeha’s wrists as she choked back a sob.

 

“Baby, what happened?” Fareeha asked quietly as if afraid of the answer, eyes darting over her body to check for injuries. Angela sniffed, watery breaths coming rapidly, head shaking dejectedly as she tried to form words. Fareeha frowned and pulled her into a hug, dropping a kiss on the top of her head as the blonde’s arms clung to her waist. She began to slowly walk backwards, leading the broken woman to the bed. With gentle murmurs of comfort, Fareeha eased Angela to the mattress and helped her lean against the fluffed up pillows she was just reclining against. 

 

Once Angela was settled, Fareeha clambored onto the bed and sat beside her, arm immediately wrapping around quaking shoulders. Angela tucked into Fareeha’s side and with a whimper, finally let the body wracking sobs come. Fareeha rocked her gently as she pulled her even closer, humming a soothing tune.

 

She was just finishing up the fourth repeat of the lullaby her mother used to sing when Angela finally began to calm. The blonde pulled away from the sticky mess she’d made of Fareeha’s shirt with a grimace, voice thick and breaking as she stuttered out an apology.

 

Fareeha simply smiled and tucked a finger under Angela’s chin, tilting her head up so she could properly clean up her face with a tissue hastily plucked from the box on her bedside tote. “You have nothing to apologize for.” 

 

The woman’s low and comforting voice nearly sent Angela into another round of tears but she swallowed back the urge, sniffing instead. She took another tissue from Fareeha and gently blew her nose, taking the moment to calm herself further. Small sobs still broke past her defenses as quiet hiccups but she took a deep breath and spoke. “M-Mother…”  
  
  
It was the only explanation Fareeha needed. That one word sent a chill down her spine.

 

Fareeha’s heart broke even further for the blonde at her side and she moved to drop a slow kiss on her forehead, a soft curse whispered against skin. Pale fingers dug into Fareeha’s shirt, clenching tight as if to ground herself as Angela began to speak, telling Fareeha of the phone call from her mother, the finality of her words, all while Fareeha ran a comforting hand over her trembling back.

 

“Her voice was so cruel…” She lamented. Fareeha rocked her gently, unsure what to say. Angela made to speak again, but her voice cracked, finally breaking from the sobs and stammered retelling of her mother’s phone call.

 

Fareeha gently pulled away and gave Angela’s face another clean up before she spoke. “Would you like me to make you some tea?”

 

Angela sniffed, eyes filling with tears once more as she took in the woman’s kindness with already frayed nerves. “I’d love some.” Her eyes drooped closed as Fareeha pulled her into another soft forehead kiss before she left the room.

 

As soon as the door shut behind her, Fareeha was eye to eye with a worried Hanzo. His eyes darted to Fareeha’s now shut door questioningly. “Family stuff.” She offered. Anything more was up to Angela to divulge. Despite her lack of information, Hanzo stood comfortingly by Fareeha as she prepared a cup of Angela’s favorite tea, making it with a bit of honey to soothe her throat. As she finished up and made to return to her room, she was stopped by a firm hand on her shoulder.  
  
  
“You’re strong, Fareeha.” 

 

The simple reassurance brought a smile to Fareeha’s lips and a bit more confidence in her posture. She didn’t realize how much she’d been doubting herself until Hanzo spoke. She gave the man a grateful nod and left for her room.

 

Angela had shifted slightly, leaning against the wall running the length of the bed. When she heard Fareeha enter, she looked up from the book of scribbles. She reached out to take the offered mug and held it close, bracing it against the bouncing mattress as Fareeha crawled to sit beside her.

 

“Thank you.” Angela finally whispered after a tentative sip of the steaming drink. Fareeha was sure she wasn’t just speaking about the tea.

 

“Together.” Fareeha reminded her, giving her thigh a comforting squeeze. “Is there anything else you’d like me to do for you?” 

 

Angela sat for a moment, pondering the ways in which Fareeha could help her. With a small smile, she decided and pulled Fareeha sideways, directing her head onto her lap. When Fareeha made a questioning sound, Angela dug her fingers through silky black strands with a shushing noise. “This right here is perfect.”

 

And that is how they sat, Fareeha’s head in Angela’s lap, pale fingers carding through her hair as the blonde sipped at her tea and read through the book of attempted lyrics. After a few more sips, Fareeha blindly grabbed her ukulele and began to absently strum, letting the calming breathy notes of the instrument fill the room.

 

She had to hold back a chuckle as she accidentally played a familiar chord progression. Fareeha repeated the notes again, dopey smile on her face as she gazed up at Angela. The blonde shifted her attention to Fareeha’s grinning face just as the woman began to sing. “You’re beautiful.” Angela blushed. “You’re beautiful.” She playfully thwaped Fareeha’s forehead with the notebook. “You’re beautiful, it’s true.”

 

Angela’s eyes darted to the side as blushed even harder, even the tips of her ears turning red. “You’re such a dork…” She grumbled as Fareeha continued to strum, humming the rest of the lyrics.

 

“Your dork, though.” She sang to the tune of the song, earning her another playful smack before Angela leaned down and dropped a kiss on Fareeha’s forehead, a muffled ‘it’s true’ whispered against her skin.

 

**~*~**

 

Jack sat behind his desk, stack of plastic folders in his hands and rhythmically dropped them on the tabletop to right their alignment. He leaned forward and passed each member of the Deadlock Gang a contract. He handed a copy to Gabe, though the manager had already poured over every word with the Watchpoint representative to ensure the Gang would be properly cared for.

 

The six sat together, Jack pointing out the bullet points of the contracts and changes Gabe had insisted on. He answered any questions brought up with ease and assuaged any doubts they had about the terms of the recording contract.

 

They’d be scheduled for studio time and assigned a producer of their choice after reviewing the resumes of those available. As soon as their first tracks were laid down, they’d be on their way to opening for tours and eventually headlining their own.

 

The reached the last page of the contract and Jack leaned forward, steepling his hands over his copy and pinning the band with a pointed look. “The last order of business,” He began with a noncommittal wave toward Fareeha and Angela. “Is your public relationship.”

 

Fareeha tensed slightly and Angela covered her embarrassment with a clearing of her throat. 

 

“Obviously I can’t let you two go around flaunting your relationship. What you do behind closed doors is your own thing, but from the moment you sign these,” He jabbed his index finger into his copy of the contract. “You’re just bandmates.”

 

Jesse and Hanzo shared a look as Fareeha engaged Jack in a contest of wills. Umber eyes narrowed further. “I won’t hide. We’ll still be out together without the boys.”  
  
  
“That’s fair.” Jack said with a nod.  
  
  
“And if we’re touchy, people will have to deal with it. Some girls are like that.” Angela piped up.

 

Jack bit back a groan but eventually acquiesced. “Also fair.”

 

Angela caught Fareeha’s eye, a silent conversation passing between them before, as one, they reached out and signed their contracts. Jesse and Hanzo signed theirs as well, a jubilant smile on the singer’s face as they scrawled along the indicated lines. 

 

“I’ll be in contact with the producers’ resumes. If there’s no other questions, we’re done here.” He busied himself with stacking up the contracts.

 

The four stood, followed by Gabe, and began filing out of the office. Just before exiting, Fareeha met Jack’s eyes once more before she scooped up Angela’s hand, dropped a kiss on her knuckles and led her from the office with her head held high.

 

**~*~**

 

The tinkling bell betrayed Angela’s attempt at a sneaky entrance into Harold’s Pawn and she glared at the offending piece of metal. Harold coming around the corner of a display case brought a smile to her face and she turned, hands wringing and hopeful he hadn’t witnessed her anger at the inanimate object. 

 

Harold’s eyes darted to the door behind her and she blushed, certain he’d witnessed her glare. “No shadow today?” He asked with a chuckle.

 

“Oh um, no.” She responded, eyes darting toward the displays. “Here on a solo mission, actually.” 

 

He smiled, hands moving from his waist to gesture toward the case Angela had been eyeing. “By all means, take a look around.”   
  
Angela smiled her thanks and made her way to the cases, looking through the various shades of silver and gold and their accompanying gemstones. Her mouth twisted slightly as nothing seemed right. She sighed and moved further down the case, hopeful for something that called out to her.

 

“Might I ask what you’re looking for? I could help you in your search.” Harold’s voice spooked the blonde, distracted as she was.

 

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, eyes avoiding the shop owner. “Something for a friend.”   
  
Harold rocked back on his heels, chuckling quietly to himself. “And this  _ friend _ doesn’t like flashy stuff, I’m guessing.” 

 

Angela nodded, blush tinting her cheeks.

 

He held up a finger before moving to the back office. “Give me a minute, I think I have just the thing.” He disappeared within the room for a moment, leaving Angela to gaze over the various pieces of jewelry that, like Harold said, were just too flashy for Fareeha. 

 

The shop owner made his way back to the blonde before laying a small velvet bag on the glass topped display case. “Give that a gander, see what you think.”

 

Pale fingers closed over the drawstring bag and tugged it open, tipping out a gold and diamond ring onto her palm. The stone was on the smaller side and the band was visibly worn with age. Her brows knit as she glanced up to Harold. “Why this one specifically?” She asked, confused as to why this ring was special.

 

“Because it’s her mother’s.” He stated simply.

 

“How did...”

 

“She came in and pawned it.” Harold said, pointedly avoiding that it was for the blonde’s violin. “She’d been trying ever since they started comin’ here, pawning this and that to make ends meet. But she could never really work up the nerve to sell that.” He pointed at the ring as it was absentmindedly stroked by a gentle fingertip. “So when she finally took the plunge, I couldn’t just sell it off to someone else. I kept it so she’d be able to get it back when money was better.”

 

Angela gazed at the ring, rolling it in her palm before smiling up at Harold. “Looks like it’s time she gets it back.”

 

**~*~**   
  
  


Fareeha and Angela sat huddled together in the back of Jesse’s truck, wrapped in a thick blanket with a thermos of hot cocoa between them. Hanzo sat with Jesse in the cab of the truck as they puttered down the last side road before they made it to they Dancing Lights. 

 

It had been a holiday tradition for the three since arriving in Nashville, as it was fairly cheap but easy way to get into the Christmas spirit. Jesse and Fareeha had been discussing when they would make the drive through the intricate lights when Angela mentioned she’d never been and that cinched it.

 

The back window of the truck was open so the two girls in the back could hear the music that would play along with the blinking Christmas lights. Seated in the truck bed, they leaned against the cab of the truck, Angela curled up against Fareeha with smiles on both of their faces.

 

The blonde was in awe. Every bulb of the lightshow danced in time with the music playing on the radio, as far as the eye could see. She could understand why the three friends came every year. It was mesmerizing.

 

The bassist was in awe. Every flicker of holiday light lit up Angela’s hair in brilliant rainbows and the sparkle in her eye wasn’t only because of her excitement. She found herself lost in the beauty that was the woman beside her. It was mesmerizing.

 

Fareeha leaned down and dropped a slow kiss on Angela’s jawline and the blonde sighed happily before turning to capture her lips completely. Fareeha chuckled when Angela’s frigid nose tickled her cheek. 

 

“You’re freezing.” Fareeha whispered, lips ghosting over Angela’s before pulling her in for another kiss.

 

Angela hummed against full lips, nipping with gentle teeth. “I suppose I should be warmed up, then.” Smoldering blue eyes locked on umber.

 

“I suppose I could help.” Fareeha replied before wrapping them tighter in the blanket, pulling it over their heads as well. Once they were properly covered, strong arms snaked around Angela’s waist and tugged her fully into Fareeha’s lap, allowing the Egyptian to hook her chin over Angela’s shoulder and her hands to wander.

 

**~*~**

 

“I can’t believe you actually framed this.” Fareeha groused as she stood in front of the lineup of professionally framed playbills and the object of her ire. There, next to priceless autographed Broadway memorabilia was the hi-lighter doodled scoresheet from LaserQuest. “Is it…” She stepped closer to inspect the matting surrounding the rumpled paper which seemed to be leather. “Did you have this  _ professionally  _ framed?”

 

Angela laughed and plucked the frame from the wall to flip it around, showing off the frame shop sticker on the back. “Sure did!” She nearly chirped, delighting in Fareeha’s reddening face.

 

Fareeha simply sighed before moving to flop on Angela’s couch, her head dramatically falling into her palm. Angela hung the frame back up, tweaking it slightly to ensure it was level, and followed Fareeha to the couch, dropping next to her in a mocking fashion.

 

Fareeha scoffed at the blonde’s actions and gave her a playful nudge. Angela merely scooped up the TV remote from the glass top coffee table and began flicking through channels. Once they’d found a show they both agreed on, Angela curled her feet up onto the couch and burrowed into Fareeha’s side with a sigh.

 

It was the simple days that meant the most to the both of them.

 

They watched the cooking show with rapt attention, captivated by the ingenious use of the barely known and borderline inedible ingredients. It was a few rounds in to the cooking competition when Angela’s phone rang.

 

She scrambled from the sofa and made her way to her phone, still on the kitchen counter with the rest of the dry goods from their earlier trip to the market. Taught by her earlier mistake, she checked the caller ID and grimaced, unsure how to handle the call.

 

She took a deep breath, flipped the phone open and answered in one swift motion before she lost her nerve. “Hi dad.”

 

“Hey kiddo.” He spoke, smile obviously tinting his words. Silence stretched between them before he continued. “So I talked to your mother.”

 

Angela grimaced and sank into a nearby dining chair. “Yeah?”

 

“I’m not going to make excuses for her. You know how she is, but this was uncalled for.” He said, frustration leaking into his calm words. “No matter what you do with your life, what choices you make, who you want to spend your life with, you’re still my baby girl.” He sighed gently. “You know that right?”  
  
  
Angela smiled, tears slipping past closed lids. “I know, dad.” A sniffle. “Thank you, I- I didn’t know how much I needed to hear you say that.”  
  
  
“I can’t promise she’ll come around any time soon, you know she’s as stubborn as a mule, but I can promise that I’ll always be here should you need me.”

 

“Thanks dad.”

 

“I love you, kiddo.” She returned the sentiment with a watery voice. “Now, is that girl of yours there?”  
  
  
Tear stained eyes glanced to the couch and took in Fareeha’s profile. The bassist was pointedly facing the TV screen but obviously on alert should she need to save Angela from another irate parent. “Yeah, she’s here.”  
  
  
“Hand her the phone, please.”  
  
  
Angela swallowed down the trepidation as she stood and made her way to Fareeha. She held out her phone with a soft clearing of her throat. Umber eyes flicked to the bright red device before looking up at Angela questioningly. “He wants to talk to you.” She explained with a small smile of reassurance.

 

Fareeha took the phone and gingerly held it to her ear. “Hello, Dr. Ziegler.”   
  
“I’m going to assume the only reason my little girl was able to get through that nonsense with her mother was you?” He asked but waited for no response before continuing. “Thank you for being there for her. She’s strong but hearing your own mother say those things… thank you for helping her.”  
  
  
“Of course, I’d do anything for her.” Dark eyes crinkled with a smile as she watched Angela’s cheeks turn pink.

 

“As would I.” He said, words becoming darker. “Including string you up by your toes should you ever hurt her. I  _ am  _ a surgeon. I know my way around a body.”  
  
  
“Duly noted, sir.” She said with a chuckle to mask her unease. “But that is something you won’t have to worry about. She’s the best thing that could have ever happened to me.”

 

“Best treat her that way.” He said with finality. “You two enjoy your afternoon.” And with that, he hung up.

 

Fareeha closed the phone with a smile before grabbing up Angela’s hands, who’d been standing at her knees anxiously since Fareeha got on the phone, and tugged her to her lap. She wrapped her up in comforting arms and kissed Angela’s cheek.

 

The blonde cuddled up, tucking her head beneath Fareeha’s jaw with a happy sigh. “Did you have a good talk?”

 

Dark arms tightened around the small of her waist. “We did.”

 

**~*~**

 

Dinner had been amazing. Despite it being nearly walking distance from her apartment, Fareeha had never been to the Melting Pot. As she looked around the dining room with its pristine wood floors and impeccably dressed wait staff, one of whom was currently clearing away the remnants of their cheese fondue, she felt terribly out of place.

 

A gentle hand covered hers and she looked up with a small smile. “Did you save room for dessert?” Angela asked her, ruby painted lips in a smile.

 

Fareeha grinned and bit her lip as she craned her neck to spy on a nearby table’s chocolate hot pot. The toasted cubes of cheesecake made her mouth water. “I think I can make room if it tastes as good as it looks.”

 

Angela smiled and requested a dessert platter before their server left, turning back to Fareeha with a smile. “So I do want to thank you.” She said quietly, thumb brushing over Fareeha’s knuckles.

 

Fareeha scoffed quietly. “I should be the one thanking you, tonight was your idea after all.”  
  
  
“And my treat,” She replied with a chuckle. “But I wanted to thank you for being there for me with my mother. The… last few weeks haven’t been the easiest for me, but they were made bearable with you by my side.” She blushed a bright pink. “And I’m thankful every day that you came into my life. I only wish you hadn’t been hurt in the process.”

 

It was Fareeha’s turn to chuckle. “I’d been eyeing you since you came into the Mercy that night, so who knows, I might have gotten the nerve to talk to you after the show?” 

 

The two shared a look before breaking out into quiet giggles. Fareeha slowly nodded with a smirk. “Yeah yeah, I’m too useless for that.”

 

Their dessert platter was placed on the table between them with a smile from their waiter and the women began inspecting the various foods on the plate. Once they’d picked their favorites and portioned them to the side, Angela began to rustle through her handbag. 

 

She withdrew an item from her bag and held it toward Fareeha. The bassist’s eyes were locked on the cube of cheesecake she was plunging into the melted chocolate. Angela smiled to herself before clearing her throat to gain the other’s attention. When Fareeha looked up, Angela spoke. “I got you something.” 

 

Fareeha’s eyes dropped to Angela’s hand and the velvet ring box sitting on her palm. Her sharp inhale was audible as she stammered, trying to find the correct words. “Angela… I love you but-”  
  
  
She was interrupted by a peal of laughter. “No no, this isn’t-” Angela paused as if rethinking her presentation. Her cheeks darkened. “I suppose it sort of seemed that way, but this is purely a thank you.” Blue eyes watched as relief flooded Fareeha’s posture. 

 

A dark hand moved to pluck up the ring box, fingertips grazing Angela’s palm. “One day.” Fareeha promised quietly as she lifted the box, eyes locked with Angela’s. She cracked open the box and her heart stopped.

 

Inside, nestled on red satin, was her mother’s wedding ring. Umber eyes instantly flooded with tears. “Angela… how? When-”

 

“I wanted to get you something as a thank you so obviously I thought of Harold. He figured out who I was shopping for and suggested this.” 

 

Fareeha pulled the ring free and slipped it on her right ring finger, staring at it lovingly as her left hand curled over the dogtags hidden beneath her shirt. 

 

“Fareeha,” Angela started, pulling the woman’s attention back. “You shouldn’t have to give up old memories in order to make new ones.”

 

With a quiet and choked back sob, Fareeha leaned forward, catching Angela’s lips in a chaste kiss. Their chocolate fondue lay forgotten on the table.


	12. Let's Go There

To:  [ sam.i.am@bellsouth.net ](mailto:sam.i.am@bellsouth.net)

From:  [ aceofbass@hotmail.com ](mailto:aceofbass@hotmail.com)

 

Subject: Checking in

 

_ Dad, _

 

_ Where to even begin… _

 

_ I feel like I haven’t talked to you in ages, hopefully this reaches you. I’ve been trying to call but I know you can’t really have your phone on you. How’re the fires going? You doing okay? Hopefully you’ll be back home for Thanksgiving. The boys and I thought we might do something here if you’d want to come. _

 

_ Unless our tour works out.  
_ _   
_ _   
_ __ Oh that’s right, you didn’t even know! We’re up for a headline tour! Once Watchpoint picked us up, they started making moves to get us our own thing, even Angela. She’s our newest member and plays a mean fiddle. Even helped us write some songs (that she has solos in, obviously :P)

 

_ She’s amazing, dad. I really want you to meet her. She jumped in and really saved us when I broke my wrist. She’s the only reason we have all of this opportunity.  _

 

_ I really like her, dad.  _

 

_ I know you always wanted me to follow my dreams. You pushed me for this band thing and you were always there to support me. She’s my dream. She’s everything I could want. I’m so lucky that she wants the band to succeed and grow. She’s there for me, even for Jesse and Hanzo. _

 

_ They’re doing great by the way. After Angela and I came out, Jesse finally decided to admit he kinda liked Hanzo back, so now they’re in the “testing phase” as Angela calls it. There’s nothing official, but they’re seeing how things go a day at a time.  _

 

_ So yeah, things down here are great.  _

 

_ Hopefully you’ll be able to come visit soon, I’d really like you and Angela to meet. She’s… She’s something, dad.  _

 

“Fareeha, are you ready?”

 

_ I’ve gotta go, we’re headed out for our one year anniversary. (sort of, long story, I’ll tell you later) Thought I’d take her somewhere really fancy. You taught me well :P  
_ _   
_ __   
“Yeah let me just send this email.”

 

_ I love you dad, _

_ Reeha _

 

Pale arms draped around Fareeha’s shoulders as she clicked ‘send.’ She nuzzled to the side, her cheek pressing into the soft silk of Angela’s sleeve. A kiss was pressed to the top of her head.

 

“Ready?” The blonde asked again.

 

“Yeah, let’s go.” Fareeha said as she stood, closing the top to her laptop as she turned. She gathered Angela up in her arms and gave her a quick kiss on the tip of the nose. 

 

The blonde giggled and dropped her own kiss to Fareeha’s chin. “We’re going to be late.”

 

Fareeha smirked. “Oh, did you make reservations somewhere?”

 

Confusion bloomed over Angela’s face. “No, was I supposed to?” She worried her lip between her teeth. “Things have been so crazy lately with the recordings, if you asked me to, I forg-”   
  
“I’m picking on you,” Fareeha said with a laugh. “I handled everything.” She stepped away and held out her hand, leading the blonde toward the door once their fingers were threaded together.

 

They made their way down the steps from the walkup, hand in hand and grins on their faces. Fareeha led them down the street with a tug that ended with her dropping kisses along pale knuckles. The hubbub around their fateful concert at MTSU had finally died down and, as Gabe predicted, their younger audience had latched on to them. They finally felt confident walking down the street together such as this, two women obviously together.

 

Fareeha slowed to a stop at a familiar line, trying her best to hold back the smile as she waited on Angela to realize where they were.

 

“This is…” She began slowly, blue eyes taking in the line of people leading up to the hole-in-the-wall Korean restaurant.

 

“The place we went on our first date.”  Fareeha finished for her and earned a playful shove.

 

“First date, huh?” Angela asked, cheeks pink. “I don’t recall that being a date.”   
  
Fareeha hummed in thought. “It was the first time we really spent time together.” She brought up a hand to smooth back a few baby hairs that were being tossed in the late summer wind. “And when I knew I wanted to spend  _ more _ time with you.”

 

Angela blushed and ducked her head. “You’d think I’d be used to your sappy flirts by now.”

 

Fareeha chuckled and nudged her to the window. “If it keeps you smiling like that, I hope you never get used to them.” She admitted with a grin of her own before turning and rattling off their order of two simple meat kabobs. 

 

Food in hand, they strolled further down the city street. They ate as they window shopped, pointing out intriguing items and displays and before long, their food was gone. Fareeha gathered both sticks and dropped them in a trashcan before taking up Angela’s hand once more, tugging her to the side.

 

Blue eyes took in the alleyway and she laughed. “Another familiar place.” She mused as she leaned up against the brick wall.

 

Fareeha stood before her with a lopsided smile. “The place you told me of your fear of being on stage.” Fareeha agreed. “How your stomach would twist in knots and you felt like you’d be sick because of people watching and judging, not knowing if you’d make it through your show without messing up or making a fool of yourself.” Umber eyes flicked to the side as she dug her hands into her jacket pockets. “Which is why,” She began, taking a deep breath, “I thought it’d be the perfect place for my own stomach twisting moment,” She sank to the ground, one knee pressed into the rough blacktop. “Where I’m not sure if you’ll say yes or I’ll just mess up and make a fool of myself.”

 

Angela’s eyes filled with tears as Fareeha pulled her hands free from her pockets, one clenched around a white velvet box.  

 

Fareeha fiddled with the box for a moment with trembling hands before raising her own damp eyes to Angela’s. “I will admit I’d planned out some sappy speech to make you swoon and ensure you said yes, but I’ve completely forgotten it.”   
  
Angela laughed, the sound of it sharp and watery from the surprise at Fareeha’s honesty. She reached out to smooth through Fareeha’s hair, fingers curling behind her head and tugging. Once the bassist was back on her feet, Angela pulled her into a kiss, giggling against her lips. “So?” She asked quietly in the small space between them.

 

“Would you marry me?” The words were whispered against Angela’s lips as Fareeha cracked open the ring box, the glittering silver and diamonds nearly glowing in the alleyway.

 

Angela leapt and wrapped her arms around Fareeha’s neck, drawing her in for a deep kiss, the ring box crushed between them. Fareeha pressed Angela against the bricks, her free hand moving to support the blonde as she wrapped her legs around Fareeha’s waist. The kiss deepened and after an embarrassing whimper from the blonde’s throat, she pulled away, peppering Fareeha’s face with butterfly kisses. Between sensual pecks, she spoke. 

 

“Of course I’ll marry you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who came along with me on this winding road. <3
> 
> This is by FAR the most fun I've had writing a story and I'm glad you all liked it as much as I did. I loved hearing your responses to the cliffhangers, the WTF moments and most importantly, hearing how their struggles touched you. I never intended for Shoot from the Hip to be what it became. (It was supposed to be a 3-4 chapter fic of fluff and zero angst) But I'm so proud of where it is today. 
> 
> Again, thank you to my dedicated commentors, the amazing artists that contributed and thank you to the readers that enjoyed what I wrote.
> 
> I couldn't have done this without you <3

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Comments are always welcome and will usually be replied to within the day, so if you have any questions or concerns, drop me a line! 
> 
> If you would rather chat one on one, I have many venues for that:
> 
> Tumblr: lunari-writes.tumblr.com  
> Twitter: @lunari_writes  
> Discord: Lunari#4875  
> Bnet: Lunari#11128


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